Diaspora, Book One
by BigDestiny
Summary: From Our Hiding Places, We Sing Songs of Deliverance. UPDATE - Blaine and Kurt are finally home, but the war isn't over yet. And recovery is going to be a longer process than anyone had thought.
1. Chapter 1

I'm not exactly sure how to classify this fic. It's not a crossover per se (although some characters from other fandoms do get mentioned and drop in briefly), but I will probably end up writing more fics of the same event, featuring characters from many of the other shows that I watch. I may have bitten off more than I can chew, but after what happened in Arizona I can't get this nightmare possibility out of my head.

I don't own Glee. Frankly, if I ever see Ryan Murphy posting stories as crazy as mine online, I'm going to start worrying.

Diaspora, Book One: From Our Hiding Places, We Sing Songs of Deliverance

By BigDestiny

This New Year's Eve was shaping up to be the best night of Kurt Hummel's life.

The Dalton Academy ballroom was an oasis of sophisticated charm that Kurt could have never imagined could exist in the middle of Ohio. Crisp tuxedoes, elegant ball gowns (Kurt couldn't believe how many women an all-boys school could acquire on such short notice); the evening would have been perfect even before the laptop and cluster of students that Kurt was a part of.

When the clock struck twelve, gay marriage would finally be a reality.

Kurt had just watched, via pod cast, the President of the United States sign the bill into law. There had been the usual ugly comments on line, and the Catholic Church was practically apoplectic, but for the most part the general public considered it a non-issue. For the first time in his entire life, Kurt actually felt like he belonged.

"Kurt? Would you like to celebrate the future with a dance?" Kurt looked up at Blaine and his breath caught. Blaine looked even more heart stopping than usual, his vintage 1920 tuxedo making him look like a silver screen star.

Blaine had been taking Kurt's breath away a lot the last few days. Ever since they'd returned to school for the party, their relationship had accelerated. They were still friends, still platonic. But Blaine was openly courting him now. Bringing Kurt coffee, making plans that involved just the two of them, and now asking him to dance. Kurt smiled broadly. "I'd love to."

It was an amazing sensation. Not only dancing with a man he loved, but knowing that they were whirling around the ball room and the only people who even noticed were the ones that were excited to finally see it happen. Kurt was actually a little taller than Blaine, which left him unable to rest his head on Blaine's shoulder but somehow it didn't matter. The realization that Kurt would likely be kissing Blaine at midnight left him light-headed.

Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, and he looked just as euphoric at Kurt was. "You look amazing tonight, Kurt." Kurt was, for probably the first time in his life, not entirely convinced he was the best dressed in the room. He'd ended up not in one of his more elaborate outfits, but in simple White Tie. Kurt had dressed it up with a silk scarf, opera cloak, and the medal he'd received for the Cheerios' Nationals win (which was the whole reason Mercedes had managed to convince him into this outfit), but Kurt felt hopelessly plain. However Blaine was happy, and intrigued by the fact that Kurt had at one point been a cheerleader, and that made the outfit a success in Kurt's eyes. "But then you always do."

"Thank you," Kurt breathed. "You look incredible out of uniform." Was that? No, that wasn't accidentally smutty sounding, as much as Kurt was wanting to know what Blaine looked like 'out of uniform'. Kurt smiled , his relief that he wasn't making a fool of himself making him look even more amazing.

"It's not too much?" Blaine asked.

"You're asking me?" They both laughed at Kurt's tease. Despite the uniforms they wore, he was already known at Dalton by the playful moniker of 'Mr. Gaga'. In fact several boys had already expressed their disappointment that Kurt wasn't wearing something more outlandish.

Blaine brushed a strand of hair off of Kurt's forehead (Kurt wasn't sure how he hadn't even noticed it) and suddenly seemed unable to move his hand back. It stayed next to Kurt's face, Blaine's fingers stroking Kurt's cheek, his eyes utterly transfixed by Kurt's mouth.

Kurt's heart almost stopped when Blaine pulled Kurt off the dance floor and out onto the terrace outside. The terrace was heated, but no one was out there. Kurt's smile was almost painfully wide; he wondered if Blaine's mouth felt the same. Blaine was definitely smiling as much as Kurt was. But instead of kissing Kurt, Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt and said, "I have something very important that I need to remind you."

Remind? Kurt was totally lost, and not really wanting to track his way back from thinking Blaine was going to kiss him in order to figure out where he was. Kurt briefly wondered if Blaine had already confessed that he felt the same way that Kurt did, but came up blank. "What have I forgotten?" Kurt asked, confused.

"I'm sure you haven't forgotten," Blaine told him, "how important your next kiss is. After what happened with that guy at your old school, it's really important to me that the next time you kiss someone, it's because you've chosen to kiss them."

Kurt could feel himself tense up, and tried to stop it. It SOUNDED like Blaine was telling him that it was up to Kurt if they were ever going to kiss. That SUCKED. "That's very gallant of you." Gallant, and SUCKY!

Blaine grinned at Kurt, clearly seeing how nervous Kurt suddenly was. "I know, it's a lot of pressure." And Blaine's hand was once again on Kurt's face. Just touching. "I really, REALLY want you to kiss me. In face, I don't even want to wait until midnight. So I was wondering if it might expedite matters if you knew that any kisses you gave me right now would be enthusiastically returned."

Even if Kurt hadn't wanted to kiss Blaine, he wasn't sure that he could have resisted such a charmingly worded plea. Kurt leaned forward until their noses were touching, matching Blaine's hand with his own (and just one; depending how this went, he wanted to have a hand in reserve for later).

Blaine closed his eyes, but didn't move. The grin on his face seemed even wider.

Kurt took a second to decide, then tilted his head to the left. He closed his eyes, too.

"Okay, break it the fuck up. I don't want to see you two freaks sucking face."

Kurt spun around to face the intruder, automatically noting, "If you're waiting for me to care what you think, you're going to be sorely disappointed." Just like he would if he'd been at McKinley Then his brain caught up to him. He was at Dalton. No one here should be talking like that.

And sure as hell no one should be pointing a gun at him.

Kurt found himself pulled back as Blaine placed himself in front of the man with the gun. "Whoa. What's going on here?"

"You're going to keep quiet and come with us," the man stated. Kurt looked behind the man to see two others, similarly armed. "If you call out to anyone, you're still going to come with us. But anyone that hears you is going to stay here with a bullet in them."

Kurt and Blaine shared a stunned look. "Look, if this is about money, we don't have to involve him," Blaine told them. "I can tie Kurt up in my dorm room. No one will find him until morning, I promise."

"Oh, but Mr. Hummel is the reason we're here in the first place."

"What?" Kurt was completely confused. Although his family was fairly well off, enough for them to afford to send Kurt to Dalton, they were hardly wealthy.

"You should be more careful who you complain to when you're having boy troubles," the man (their kidnapper?) told him. "No idea who might be going through your records."

They were kidnapping him based on the thing with Karofsky? "Okay, then. Same deal, only I tie Blaine up. You don't want to piss his family off. You'll end up worse than dead." Kurt realized as he said it that it was probably a mistake to mention Blaine's family. Blaine was a much more valuable hostage if these guys knew his mother was a Vanderbilt, but it was too late now.

And it didn't seem to matter anyways. "Oh, we wouldn't want you to be lonely," the man laughed at him. "Put them in the van."

Kurt and Blaine were hauled towards a moving van. After being frisked and deprived of their cell phones, they were tossed in the back and the door shut. Blaine went immediately back to the door, but as the van started moving, Blaine huffed anxiously. "There's no handle to open the door. Damnit."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before. It's not filling me with reassurance." Oddly enough, Kurt wasn't upset. It was like there was a cold spot in the center of his head that was keeping him from believing this was actually happening.

Blaine hurried over to where Kurt was standing, arms across his chest, and hugged him. "Sorry. I'm not being a very good mentor, am I?"

Blaine's self derogatory push-down of his emotions made Kurt wince. "No. No, you don't have to do that. You don't have to be brave for me. I'm sorry, it was a bad joke." He turned to Blaine, anxious but glad they were in this together. "This is insane."

"Yeah." Blaine had his head down, and was stroking Kurt's hair in an apparent effort to calm himself. "But we both need to keep level heads if we're going to get out of here."

Kurt nodded as he turned back to the door. He'd thought it was odd that there was no handle at all, but as he got closer he could see that the handle that ought to be on the back of the door had been removed. "My dad got an order in to do maintenance on some vans like this one. I think I know how to get the door open without the handle."

"Really?" Blaine asked, surprised. "Why don't you tell me about your hidden mechanical abilities while you get the door open?" He looked scared, but was putting on a brave front that was remarkably similar to how he usually acted. It made Kurt wonder just how often Blaine got scared like this.

Kurt lay down on his side while he reached under the door latch. His tail coat was no doubt getting filthy, but if he took it off, the white waistcoat underneath would be getting dirty and he was sure that THAT would never come clean if it did. "Not much to say, really. You know my dad owns a garage."

"Your dad," Blaine reminded. "Not you."

"It's about the only thing I have in common with my dad," Kurt replied. "And I really do like seeing how everything fits together. The parts… they're all different, but you need all of them to make the engine work."

Blaine nodded, this insight into Kurt's psyche seemed to be calming him. "Kind of like you and your dad?"

"I guess." Kurt smiled to himself. "I need to send Mercedes a thank you note."

The change of conversation had Blaine confused. "What for?"

Kurt pulled the medal off of his chest. "I need something to get to the latch. I wouldn't be wearing this if it weren't for her."

"I'll send her one, too. Hell, I'll send one to the judges that gave you that medal in the first place."

Kurt laughed. "That would be something they don't get often. 'Thanks for the medal. We used it to escape from kidnappers.'" And just like that, the door cracked open.

Kurt opened the door another foot; any more and the kidnappers might notice it. He winced as the roar of the truck and passing air multiplied a dozen times. "We've got to get out before we hit the highway. There's no way we can get out if we're going that fast."

Blaine leaned down to look out the back. To Kurt's surprise, Blaine grinned. "I think I know where we are. We should be coming up to the highway in a couple of minutes. If we stay in the blind spot behind the truck, we should be able to make it to the ditch when they turn, and they won't see us get out."

Kurt smiled back. "That sounds much better than jumping out of a moving vehicle."

A few moment later, the truck started to slow down. "Are you ready?" Blaine asked.

"Ready to make sure I never get my deposit back on this tux? I suppose so."

They slid underneath the door and jumped just as the truck stopped. As Blaine had hoped, they made it to the ditch and the van continued on without noticing. The highway was quiet; between the hour and the holiday there didn't seem to be anyone on the road besides them. "What do we do now?" Kurt asked.

"There's a private campground on a lake near here," Blaine told him. "The Warblers generally have a weekend there in June. Hopefully we can call for help, or else we'll have to stay there overnight and walk back to Dalton in the morning."

"Maybe we should head straight back," Kurt worried. "What if my dad finds out what happened? I don't want him to get sick over this."

"He won't. I-" Blaine blushed. "I wasn't going to push, or expect anything. But just in case… I asked my roommate to find other sleeping accommodations tonight, just in case. No one is going to miss us until lunch at the earliest."

Kurt flushed too, but his was more annoyance that he and Blaine finally had Blaine's room to themselves and they were a good twenty miles away from it. "All the more reason to head back," he pointed out ruefully.

Blaine looked really tempted by that, but he shook his head. "The woods around here are full of coyote packs, and they're hungry and mean this late in the year. We're taking enough of a chance heading to the campground."

Kurt shivered, all thoughts of being alone with Blaine quashed for the time being. He looked around the ditch, hoping to find something he could throw or swing at an attacking animal. Finding nothing, he sighed, "I hate nature."

"Hey, there's more to being a Warbler than performances and gala events," Blaine teased.

"Well if I must," Kurt relented playfully. "I'm generally an indoor kind of guy. Like Rose at the beginning of Titanic. Or Queen Mary."

"I did not know that about Queen Mary."

"Really? Your grandfather didn't have grand tales about meeting her?"

"That was the Queen Mother," Blaine clarified.

Kurt sighed wistfully. "That must have been lovely."

Blaine seemed to suddenly realize he still had his watch and pulled it out. He smiled ruefully at Kurt. "It's 12:18. Happy New Years, Kurt."

It wasn't how Kurt had pictured it (in fact, Kurt had originally hoped that he might be naked in Blaine's bed by this point). But given what had just happened to them, and what might have happened had they not escaped, Kurt was quite content that his first real kiss was out in the middle of nowhere at the bottom of a drainage ditch. "Happy New Years, Blaine."

They arrived at the camp without further incident, just before 1 am. They'd had to break into the main building, but Blaine had assured Kurt that circumstances warranted it. There was no alarm system, which Kurt noted would actually have been helpful in this instance.

"I don't think it would do much for our credibility if we had to explain our kidnapping while talking our way out of a B and E," Blaine told him.

"I know, but I'm still worried. This doesn't add up," Kurt insisted. "It would have been a lot easier to just shove us in the trunk of a car. Why rent a van? Unless they needed the room to round up more gays!"

Blaine paled at the suggestion. "I really hope you're wrong, Kurt."

Kurt was pretty sure he wasn't, but there wasn't anything to accomplish by arguing with Blaine about it. "It doesn't look like there's a landline here."

Blaine looked around and nodded. "I guess they didn't need one. Especially with how good cell service is here."

"And any other time I would be grateful," Kurt stated. "But right now I'd feel a lot better if I was talking to someone in uniform."

"There might be a ranger uniform around here I could put on," Blaine teased. Kurt smiled at that, and Blaine continued his search around the main room. He found a radio and turned it on. It was already set to an oldies station they both liked. "I love this song. Dance with me?"

Roch Voisine and Richard Marx' Every Day of Your Life was a little too fast to couples dance to, but Kurt accepted. He leaned into Blaine's arms, singing the song back to him.

"When the World can recognize our destiny

And the eye is looking down at history

I'll say tomorrow what I say today

It's all right."

Blaine let Kurt sing the chorus too, but then he put a finger on Kurt's lips, silencing the countertenor. The bridge came, and Blaine sang it to Kurt.

"Over and over your heart's been left bare

Haunted by faith that has led you nowhere

But you don't need to call out my name

Cause I am always there."

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt exclaimed, overcome by the moment.

"I love you too, Kurt." It seemed almost unnecessary after what Blaine had just sung, but Kurt was glad to hear it.

They kissed again. Kurt was about to suggest they move things into one of the bedrooms in the back, but the song was over. And amazingly someone was actually doing the news.

What they heard shocked them to the core.

"We have a further update from the shooting at a gay wedding in Illinois. Another person has died, bringing the current casualties to nine dead, and twelve wounded. The gay man kidnapped from the wedding has been identified as Eric Van der Woodsen, son of New York socialite Lily Van der Woodsen. We've received unconfirmed reports from around the country of what would seem to be additional kidnappings, though we remind our listeners that these reports have not been confirmed."

"Oh my god," Blaine gasped.

It wasn't just the two of them. Someone was coming for them all.

(to be continued)

Every Day of Your Life doesn't completely fit Blaine and Kurt's relationship (though oddly enough, it would have been perfect for Kurt and Sam), but the verse Kurt sings really does sound like gay love, doesn't it? And I REALLY want someone to sing the bridge to Kurt, he deserves it.


	2. Chapter 2

They stayed up until 4 in the morning listening to the radio. The announcer, they hadn't even heard what his name was yet, had promised to stay all night updating with everything he could get his hands on. "Do you suppose he knows he's our only lifeline?" Blaine wondered.

Kurt shrugged. The news was bad: over two hundred and seventy reported kidnappings thus far. All known to have reported being bullied in school, which tracked with what Kurt and Blaine had heard from their own kidnappers. No one on the outside seemed to have made the connection, though. And with it being New Years, the police had already been stretched to their limit before this had even happened.

There were a handful of good stories, people who'd gotten away like them. The kidnappers after Blaine's cousin Anderson, for example, had failed and run off. And after the men foolish enough to try and take Adam Lambert off stage by force had been torn to pieces by his irate fans, it seemed no one was trying for gay celebrities anymore.

Of course, those failures had netted the police very little evidence. Kurt and Blaine's information on the moving vans was vital and they were still stuck in the middle of nowhere until morning.

Finally, there was just nothing new being reported. No leads, and no one awake to comment this early in the morning. Blaine and Kurt hadn't been reported missing yet, though Blaine's parents were no doubt trying to get a hold of him. Blaine shook his head, tiredly. Although the announcer had declared his intention to remain on air until his replacement showed up in the morning, there was no longer anything else to hear. "We'd better get some sleep."

"Blaine." Kurt wasn't sure how to say what he had to say. Silence reigned for a few moments. "We can't go back to Dalton, can we?"

An hour earlier, the announcer had noted what they'd already been thinking. It seemed almost impossible that this could have happened without someone knowing about it in advance. Blaine turned off the radio and sat back down with Kurt. "Whoever did this would need people everywhere to pull this off. Police, government-"

"It's like the holocaust all over again," Kurt noted, stunned.

"No. I can't believe that," Blaine declared. "There's got to be lots of people out there trying to find us. We just have to be careful who does."

"So we can't go back," Kurt repeated.

Blaine considered that. It was likely that whoever had taken them now knew they had escaped. Dalton would be watched, so would Kurt's house in Lima. "You're probably right. But we should be able to sneak back into town and contact someone. Then either we go with them, or we come back here."

Kurt nodded, relief making him look tired. "Sounds good. There are three bedrooms in the back. Which one do you want?"

"You pick." Blaine realized he'd just implied that they'd be sleeping together, and blushed. "I- Not that I'm pushing. I definitely don't feel up to sex right about now. I just- "

Kurt smiled, too charmed by Blaine's uncharacteristic babbling to be offended. "You'd sleep better if I was somewhere you could keep an eye on me?"

"I would have phrased it so it sounded less offensive. …Eventually."

"Blaine, we were just kidnapped," Kurt pointed out. "If we were in separate bedrooms, I'd have spend all night listening to make sure you were still there, too."

Blaine kissed Kurt and held him tight. "If this had happened a week ago, while we were still at home? And I didn't know where you were?"

Kurt shuddered. "No more of the 'what if's, okay? We'll take the middle bedroom. That way, on the off chance someone decides to look here, we'll hear them checking at least one room before they find us." It was a sign of how serious their situation was, that Blaine didn't call him on his paranoia.

When they got to the bedroom and Blaine started to get undressed, Kurt just stared at him. He wasn't sure exactly how much he should be taking off here. They'd kissed, declared their love for each other. Blaine was definitely thinking about sex at some point, just as Kurt was. What was an appropriate amount of nudity for 'the first time you've slept in a bed together, but just slept, because you're too tired out from escaping from the mass gay roundup that just happened'?

"Kurt are you okay?" Blaine had noticed Kurt staring and had stopped undressing with his tie, jacket, cape, and cufflinks on the chair beside him.

Kurt decided to hell with it. Blaine was presumably his boyfriend now, Kurt may as well be frank. "I don't have any pajamas with me, obviously. I was wondering how much I could take off before it gets awkward."

Blaine's eyes went wide, and Kurt knew without asking that Blaine was thinking about Kurt being entirely naked right now. "I know this is a really inappropriate time to talk about our relationship-"

"As you've already pointed out, there's nothing else we can do right now."

"That's true. Kurt, I want you to be my boyfriend. And I want you to be my lover. Believe me, it'll be tempting if you don't want to get your underwear wrinkled by sleeping in them. But it won't be awkward for me."

Kurt smiled, and started stripping without a word. He kept the underwear on, though. "I don't want our families to be kept worrying because we spent the next week having sex," he finally noted in explanation.

"That's very thoughtful of you."

"I know."

* * *

Blaine woke up shortly after sunrise. He pulled Kurt's warm body closer, hoping to hold off the memory of how he'd gotten there for a few moments. Kurt let out a happy sounding moan, but didn't wake up. Not even when Blaine realized he wasn't going to stay mindlessly content and got up.

He made his way to the kitchen, in hopes that some dry foodstuffs might have proven unimportant enough to haul back home at the end of summer. Luck was apparently with them; as Blaine dug through the pantry he found rolled oats, powdered eggs, potatoes, and milk, and mercy of mercies, coffee. He didn't want to turn the emergency generator on unless he had to, but it turned out that the stove was gas, like the furnace. And both could run for some time off the big propane tank out back.

He grabbed the coffee first, only to have to set it down again. Blaine had been able to control his anxiety over the situation up until this point, with Kurt's calm forming a handy reproach, but now his hands were shaking. Blaine went out onto the covered area outside the cabin, sat on the steps, and finally let his tears flow.

He'd hoped that he'd be able to work his way through his emotional breakdown before Kurt woke up. But a gentle hand on his shoulder told him he'd miscalculated. "Kurt, hey. Good morning." Blaine attempted to wipe his eyes, but Kurt took his hand, stopping him.

"I told you last night you don't have to be brave for me."

Blaine chuckled sadly. "You aren't crying. I cry, and I feel like a complete wuss."

Kurt sat next to Blaine, looking out over the lake. Thinking. "I lost my mom eleven years ago. Well, she died nine years ago, but eleven years ago was when she got sick. The worst part about it- her being sick, losing her was something completely different- the worst part was not being able to do anything about it. Ever since then, as long as I have something to do, some way to help out, I've felt like I had some power over the situation." Kurt turned back to look at Blaine. "It's not that I don't cry, Blaine. I CAN'T. If you need to fall apart now that things are calmer, it doesn't make you look bad. I'm a little jealous."

Blaine smiled, kissing Kurt gently. "Well I'd be a lousy boyfriend if I let you wallow in envy. Especially since there's enough in the kitchen for breakfast, at least. How does oatmeal, eggs, and coffee sound?"

Kurt's eyes widened, though he ignored the idea of food entirely. "Coffee? I take back everything I've ever said about there not being a god," he quipped. Kurt stood up and stepped off the little verandah. "I'm going to have a look around this place. Call me when there's coffee?"

"Sure thing." Blaine went back into the cabin, feeling a lot better. It was going to take some getting used to, not having to be the put-together one. But it felt good, being equals. And Kurt's speech about not being able to cry actually made Blaine feel grateful for being able to.

Coffee was brewing, and a sketchy breakfast awaiting boiling water to be brought into being, when an excited Kurt came barreling into the cabin. "Blaine!" he shouted. "You won't believe what I just found! Come quick!"

Kurt ran back out the door, and Blaine had to sprint to catch up to him. Kurt led him around the back of the cabin to a half enclosed area that functioned as a combination shop and garage in the summer. There was a tarp off to the side that was half covering something Blaine couldn't quite make out. Kurt had apparently seen under it, as he headed right to it and ripped the tarp the rest of the way off. "Amazing," Blaine gasped.

It was a four wheel ATV. Kurt was grinning, that impossibly wide grin that he said was so unbecoming but that Blaine thought made Kurt look even more charming. "Full tank of gas, which should get us at least to a gas station in town."

"This is great," Blaine enthused. "Not only is this going to cut our travel time, they're going to be expecting us on foot. We should be able to slip in and out of town undetected, assuming I can convince you to put on the flannel monstrosities they wear here on cold summer nights."

Kurt made a face, but nodded. "I suppose if I'm going to be coming here with you this summer, I'm going to have to get used to them eventually."

"There's the spirit," Blaine told him. "Are you going to need any time to get this thing ready?"

Kurt considered that. "Only about half an hour after we're finished breakfast. I guess there isn't a hot shower available."

"Afraid not." Blaine sighed. "There's a bathtub. If you want, we could boil some water."

"If we have to come back here, I might take you up on that."

* * *

Burt Hummel's first sign that something was wrong was also the biggest: the Rose Bowl and Rose Bowl Parade had been postponed indefinitely.

There was a news report instead, but Burt hadn't yet caught what was going on before Finn, at the remote, changed the channel. More news, and Finn changed it again. "That's weird," Finn noted, not really paying attention. Not surprising; ever since he'd broken up with Rachel he'd been like this. The fact that Rachel's dads had taken her to Mexico for the week had (for some unknown reason) made it worse instead of better.

When the third channel showed more news, Burt raised his hand. "Wait a sec, Finn. What's going on?"

And then Burt saw what this special report was reporting on.

'Copycat holocaust? Hundreds missing after mass gay and lesbian abductions.'

"Oh my god," Carole gasped.

Burt was out of his chair and headed for the phone when he heard something drop to the floor. It must have been the remote because when Burt instinctively looked over he saw a cell phone in Finn's hands. "Come on! Pick up, Kurt!" Finn shouted at the phone.

Burt picked up the landline, stopping when he realized that with Finn now calling and recalling he would be wasting valuable time doing the same. Of course he didn't know who else he could be calling right now. He couldn't call the police; they didn't know if Kurt was actually missing.

Who did you call when the world launched an all out offensive against your kid?

It was almost a relief when Finn dropped his phone on the floor. His relief was tempered by the fact that Finn's hands had literally shaken his phone out of them, but it left Burt with something to do.

He left Finn to Carole and picked up the landline. But when he dialed Kurt's cell number he got only what Finn presumably got: Kurt's cell phone was either off, or out of a service area.

It was actually in a puddle just inside the Dalton Academy grounds but Burt didn't know that.

"Mom, why isn't Kurt answering the phone? What if someone got him? What if he's dead?"

"Finn!" Carole exclaimed, fear making her more terse than she ought to have been. "Calm down. We sent Kurt to Dalton Academy because it was safe, remember? We don't know that anything is wrong with him."

"Yeah," Burt agreed, trying hard to make himself believe it. "It's New Years Morning. Kurt probably doesn't even know what's happening. So all we have to worry about is the possibility that he can't hear his phone because it's under some strange boy's bed."

But Finn was crying now. Damn TV news, always making things worse than they were.

Kurt was all right. He was too smart, he could deal with this.

Of course, that's probably what they said about the people the Nazis took away to Dachau.

(to be continued)


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt had finished what work needed to be done on the ATV five minutes earlier, and was now watching Blaine tidy up the kitchen. From outside the cabin, as Kurt had something to tell Blaine that he KNEW Blaine wasn't going to like.

After running through what had to have been the thousandth different way of broaching the subject, Kurt strode through the door. He'd intended to come at the problem with his typical fortitude, but that waned in the face of his smiling, beautiful boyfriend. "I- Blaine, I have to call my dad when we get to town."

Blaine's face dropped, but to his credit he didn't immediately forbid it. "Kurt, do you remember how long it takes to trace a call?"

Now Kurt had seen the occasional movie that had shown police trying to trace a call, but he couldn't remember the exact time. "Not really."

"Neither do I." Blaine came over to Kurt and took his hand. "Kurt, believe me I understand how much you want your dad to know you're okay. I'd give anything to be able to talk to my parents right now. Well, almost anything." he added with a pained look in Kurt's eyes. And Kurt was suddenly in Blaine's arms, and Blaine was kissing him.

Kurt was ready to give in, and probably would have if it had just been about his dad. "Blaine, you don't understand. I've got to warn them."

"Warn who, beautiful?" Blaine nuzzled into Kurt's ear. Now that wasn't playing fair.

Of course, with things as grim as they were, Blaine probably shouldn't be playing fair.

Kurt had to step back. It was entirely too hard to think logically when Blaine was holding him. "Blaine, a couple of girls in New Directions, they're not exactly straight."

Blaine was legitimately startled by that, all attempts at cheating a victory forgotten. "Really?"

"Brittany is dating Artie right now, and Santana- Well, I don't really know WHAT'S going on with Santana. But they don't know that whoever is doing this is looking into school records. If this is still going on after the break, and one of them says something to a teacher-" Kurt broke off, unable to say it aloud. Brittany and Santana might already be captured, but if they weren't, then Kurt had to do SOMETHING to make sure they were safe.

Blaine hugged Kurt again. "It's risky. Can you call someone else? Artie, maybe?"

Kurt nodded, his tension ebbing. In his desperation to make sure his father was okay, he'd forgotten the other options. And he really didn't think he could live with himself if he got to talk to his family when Blaine couldn't do the same. "Yeah. They probably won't be bugging his phone, and even if they are I can come up with something that he'll get but they won't."

Blaine sighed. He'd won the disagreement, but didn't look it. "I'm sorry, Kurt."

"Not your fault." Kurt kissed Blaine one more time before letting go. "ATV's ready, let's get going. Hopefully we can get our calls out before anyone worries."

* * *

Nate Archibald was sitting in the corner of the Van der Woodsen living room, which looked like a war room at that point. In fact Blair had even managed to scare up a map of the United States that was now covered in little red flags. Another wall held a map of the world, with little green flags for every country that was confirmed to not have any missing GLBTs. Which at the moment seemed to be all of them except this one. Nate couldn't believe that it had come to this, not in America of all places. "We're at war with the homophobes now," he muttered to himself.

Everyone heard him, though. Serena came over to him, still crying but more than willing to give him a supportive hug. "Yes we are. And we're gonna beat them."

They'd all come; Nate, Chuck, Vanessa, Blair and her family, including loyal maid Dorota. Initially to support Rufus and Lily, Serena and Dan, even prodigal Jenny who had returned to New York to await news of her best friend/stepbrother. It wasn't until Nate had gotten the call that his cousin Blaine was missing that attention had been diverted to him as well.

Nate realized his phone was ringing. He just stared at it for the longest time, vaguely aware that the others were staring quietly, too.

Was it bad news? He didn't recognize the number, for all he knew it was the kidnappers.

It could be good news, but almost a dozen people had been killed when Eric had been taken. Blaine could be-

Nate answered the phone. Apparently not knowing wasn't going to be any easier than knowing. "Hello?"

"Nate? Nate, it's Blaine."

Nate was suddenly on his feet. He made an effort to grin broadly so his sudden tears didn't alarm anyone. "Oh my god! Blaine, are you okay? We've been so worried about you. Something awful's happened," he added, just on the off chance Blaine hadn't heard.

Though Blaine must have heard. If he didn't know something bad had gone down, Blaine was more likely to phone Nate's mom for New Years and just text Nate himself. "I know," Blaine told him. "They came after us, too. Kurt and I just barely got away."

Nate's feet gave out and he sat down again. "Kurt- That's that guy that just started at your school. The one you like. Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, but we don't have a lot of time. You know Serena Van der Woodsen, so I'm assuming you know who's in charge of the investigation." Blaine gave Nate a complete run down of what had happened the night before. The remarks about Kurt's school records and the moving vans included. "I saw part of the license plate," Blaine added.

"Let me get a pencil," Nate replied. He'd only half stood when he had six pencils in his face. He grabbed one at random and wrote down what Blaine told him. "Do you have someplace safe to go right now?"

"We do," Blaine answered. "I can't tell you where-"

"Don't," Nate interrupted firmly. "I don't think anyone's listening but it's better if no one knows where you are right now."

"We agree." Blaine's formal tone faltered a little. "We've got to get going. Tell my mom and dad that I'm safe, okay. And that I love them both. I- I love all of you."

"We love you too, kiddo." And then Blaine was gone. Nate knew that he had phone calls to make, but all he could do was drop his phone and sob. "He's just a kid. They're all just kids. How could anyone to that to a kid?"

"I don't know," Serena mumbled into his shoulder.

* * *

Blaine was sobbing, too. Kurt held him close until Blaine finally pulled himself together. He didn't want to, and he knew Kurt didn't mind. But they had so little time. "Okay. I'm okay now. Did you want to call Artie now?"

Kurt nodded. But then he picked up Blaine's watch, currently nestled in the pocket of the ugly plaid jacket Blaine was currently wearing. They were both hideous, but Kurt had (surprisingly) admitted he felt less exposed than he would have been if they were still in formal wear. "It's getting late. Maybe you should head to the supermarket while I call."

"You're sure?" Blaine asked, worried.

"If it was my dad, I'd probably need some comfort afterwards. Artie and I aren't that close," Kurt insisted with a teasing smile.

Blaine looked for some sign of reluctance in his boyfriend's eyes, but Kurt was resolute. "Head to the phone booth on Elm, then meet me in the alley behind the market."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I came up with the plan," he noted playfully. "I still remember how it goes."

"I know." Blaine blushed, wishing he still had his healthy detachment. "Be careful- no, that sounds trite, too. I love you?"

"I love you sounds fine," Kurt told him. "I love you, too. And be careful isn't trite. Not now."

"Okay. Be careful." Blaine wished he could come up with something to say that would take the edge off the situation. But he was coming up blank.

Thankfully Kurt wasn't. "And Blaine? Condoms and lube. Don't forget."

Only Kurt could put a smile on Blaine's face at this point.

* * *

Despite his assurances, Kurt had needed a few moments to compose himself before he called Artie's number. It rang a few times, long enough for Kurt to wonder who he should call next if it went to voice mail. But ultimately, Artie must have just needed time to decide if he'd pick up. The same as Blaine's cousin had.

"Who dis be?"

Kurt gave a ghost of a laugh, relieved that in the face of the current crisis, he could still count on Artie's lame greeting. "She's dead, this is her son." It wasn't as blasé as it was usually delivered, but then Artie wasn't the usual telemarketer he greeted with that response.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line, and Kurt was just about to announce himself properly when Artie came back on. "Fuck! Kurt is that you? What the hell are you doing calling me? Your dad and Mercedes are freaking out!"

"They're probably also being watched," Kurt pointed out. "You might be to, but there's a limited number of people I can call from memory."

"Right. But I'm at your house right now. Everyone's here, I can put your dad-"

"No," Kurt told him, closing off temptation as firmly as Blaine had. "I don't have a lot of time, and it wouldn't be fair if Blaine couldn't talk to his parents, too."

"Okay." Artie clearly didn't understand, but at least he wasn't arguing the point. "You want us to call the cops for you."

"That's being taken care of. But I want you to keep an eye on the rest of New Directions." Kurt paused, recalling what he'd decided to tell Artie. "We don't know how they're deciding on who to pick up. I wanted to make sure they weren't confusing 'Homo Erections' with an actual gay group."

"Well, they haven't come after any of us," Artie replied. It sounded like there was something else in his tone, and Kurt hoped that Artie had guessed what Kurt hadn't said.

"I didn't think they would, but you know how stupid homophobes are. If this thing is being run by people like Karofsky they're probably rounding up anyone that doesn't smell awful." That should throw off suspicion on two fronts; don't say I never did anything for you, Dave.

Artie laughed. It almost covered the sound of a click, but Kurt suspected that he was now on speaker. "Kurt, tell me you're okay again. I really need to hear it."

Kurt sighed again, this time in frustration. He was really trying not to cheat. "We're okay for now. Actually, Blaine and I decided we'd like to spend the rest of the gay-pocalyse as a couple."

There was some muffled sobbing in the background, confirming the speaker was on. "You go, dog," Artie noted, covering.

"Kurt, are you going to be in that scary movie with Liam Neeson?" Brittany asked.

Kurt could almost hear Artie's wince, and there was a stunned silence from the rest of the room. Not surprising, no one wanted to be reminded of Schindler's List right now. "No babe," Artie insisted. "They finished filming that already."

"That's too bad. Kurt would probably like to know how to use a light saber."

"I love all of you," Kurt announced with a wistful smile. "Try not to worry. We'll be okay."

* * *

Blaine hadn't anticipated how difficult shopping would be under these circumstances. He and Kurt already knew they couldn't use their bank cards (thankfully Blaine always had some small bills in his tux pockets for tipping, and he'd accumulated almost fifty dollars). What he hadn't counted on was that keeping his head down so no one could see him, and dressed mostly in hunting plaid, he looked a little like a crazy hermit.

The guy at the deli counter was the third person to look at Blaine uncomfortably. And he'd only been there for a couple of minutes. "Camping supplies?" the man asked nervously.

"Uh, yeah." Think Blaine. Why do you look like the Unabomber right now? "It's my son's first ice fishing trip. I think I underestimated how much fishing I'd get in."

Thankfully, the guy just smiled. "Can't say I'm surprised. Your kid's not even in grade school, am I right?"

"Right. Next time I'll wait until his grandpa is in town."

"Your wife doesn't fish?"

Wife? Now why would I have- Oh right. And she must be along, or else who's watching my imaginary kid? "Not enough to keep us fed, unfortunately."

The deli guy finished up Blaine's order. "Well that should do you for a couple of days." He looked up, past Blaine, just enough to make a face.

Blaine turned around. A couple of highway patrol officers had walked in, and were talking to some of the other customers. He tried to control his sudden up swell of panic; it would do no good to draw attention to himself. "Hmm," he commented, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.

"You hear about those kids that got taken?" the deli guy asked.

"There was a little on the radio on the way- into town." Fuck, he'd almost said 'back'. He needed to watch what he said.

"There's four of them missing just from my kid's school. Sheriff's department says they're looking for them, but-"

Blaine looked up; the guy looked concerned. And not at all happy to see the officers at the doorway. "You don't think they're in on it. I thought that was just media paranoia."

"You'd think. But all they're doing is flashing the same pictures around. They don't look like kidnappers, and if they've been taken I don't know why someone would expect them to show up here." The deli guy passed a trio of pictures to him.

Blaine's breath caught. His picture was right on the top.

Blaine looked up. The deli guy was eyeing him, worried. "Enjoy the ice fishing."

"Th-Thanks," Blaine replied. He tried to get the rest of what he and Kurt needed as calmly as possible, but his hands were shaking by the time he was finished.

Blaine decided to not chance being spotted again, and went to the self serve checkouts. It was nerve-wracking; being this close to the door he could hear the officers talking.

And then he heard it: "What about that guy at the checkouts?"

Blaine froze. He wasn't armed, and he sure as hell didn't think he could outrun any cops. Especially laden down with what he was buying.

They had his picture.

Maybe he could pretend he didn't hear-

"I doubt it." It was the man from the deli counter. That's who they were talking to.

"You're sure?"

"Guy just came in from ice fishing with his family. He'd have said something if there was some concentration camp down the lake."

Blaine gathered up his groceries as quickly as he could. All too aware that the cops didn't have to take the deli guy's word for it.

Especially when one of them scoffed. "It's not that bad. People are just overreacting to this." That certainly sounded like it came from a co-conspirator.

Blaine was out the door as fast as he could calmly walk. He was headed to the alley when he heard it.

Was that a gunshot? It wasn't as loud as he'd believed it would be. Maybe just a car.

Or maybe it was a silencer. Blaine started to walk faster.

Blaine looked back to make sure no one was following him.

He tripped over something.

Through the bags he could just barely see there was someone on the ground.

Who was even supposed to be back here on New Year's Day?

No.

But before Blaine could drop the bags to see who was lying there, he realized there was someone in front of him.

And it clicked who it was that was in that third picture.

It was that guy from Kurt's old school. Dave Karofsky.

That's who had a gun pointed in his face.

(to be continued)


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to everyone for following this story, and to those of you who reviewed. I meant to thank you before the last two chapters, but I've been in such a hurry to get these updates posted that I forgot. You are all much appreciated.

One further note for this chapter. Kurt's dream, in case it's not clear, takes place over several decades and several American Presidencies. I am NOT saying that Sarah Palin is a toddler killer, so please don't sue.

* * *

Part Four

Kurt had briefly considered waiting in the dumpster for Blaine, but ultimately had decided against it. It left him exposed and vulnerable, but Kurt had gone to McKinley High School. Exposed and vulnerable were something he was used to.

He thought he'd had it all planned. Kurt had decided that if somebody came along from Dalton, he was going to play dumb about the attacks and claim that Blaine had whisked him away on a romantic weekend away. If it was someone he didn't know, he was going to tell them that he was waiting for 'a friend' to get out of the liquor store across the alley. And if it was a cop, he had a brilliant bit of dialogue worked out to determine whether or not they had taken part in the kidnappings.

The only thing that he hadn't counted on was the freak possibility that Dave Karofsky had come to Dalton to find him.

Not that Karofsky had expected to find Kurt in the alley. He came running up in a panic that didn't bode well for either of them. Kurt stepped aside to avoid a collision, and Karofsky finally realized that he wasn't alone in the alley. "Hummel! Get the fuck down!"

There was someone else running into the alley. Karofsky pushed Kurt to the ground and pulled out a gun.

The shot was loud, though not as loud as Kurt was expecting it to be.

Certainly not as loud as the sound of the man hitting the ground seemed to be.

Karofsky hurried over to the man and kicked him onto his back. After a brief search Karofsky noted, "He doesn't look like he has another gun."

Kurt noted that the man Karofsky had shot was a cop. "Fuck. Oh, fuck."

"We've gotta get the hell out of here before they find him."

Kurt rushed to the cop's side. He was still alive, but bleeding heavily. "If we leave him here, he'll die."

Karofsky stopped short, as though he'd just realized what he'd done. Of course, it was possible he had. With everything that was going on, it almost felt like they were in some kind of video game. The blood, though, that made everything real. "But he- I didn't- Oh, fuck."

"You shot a cop," Kurt exclaimed. In the back of his head, he knew he shouldn't be antagonizing someone who'd just shot a cop, but he had no experience keeping his mouth shut against Karofsky.

"That's not a cop!" Karofsky insisted. "There are people out there hunting gays, and he must have mistaken me for you!"

"So you came all the way to Westerville to warn me? Or to correct him?"

Karofsky winced. "I didn't-"

"You said that already," Kurt noted, acidly.

But then there was someone else running into the alley. Karofsky whirled around, training the gun he was carrying on the newcomer.

It was Blaine.

Kurt moved swiftly to place himself between Blaine and Karofsky. "That's my boyfriend, you closeted simian!" Kurt nudged the gun away from Blaine as gently as he could manage; Karofsky looked rattled enough to pull the trigger without meaning to. "Give! Me! That!"

Surprisingly, Karofsky handed over the gun without arguing. "We've got to get out of here."

Kurt was astonished. "You just shot a cop! I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"He was a crooked cop," Karofsky insisted. "The only reason I have a gun to shoot him with is because he tried to kill me."

"That doesn't make him a bad cop, it just means he must have met you!" Kurt snapped.

"Kurt, you need to keep your voice down," Blaine worried. "I know you can't imagine him possibly being right, but the sheriff's office is looking for the three of us, not the kidnappers." He handed Kurt three pictures that he'd acquired.

Sure enough, it was the three of them. Kurt was considering the possibility that Karofsky might actually be telling the truth when he looked down at the gun he'd taken. "Cops wouldn't need a silencer, either. Not unless they were doing something they weren't supposed to."

Blaine was looking at Kurt; as soon as Kurt looked back, Blaine made a significant glance at Karofsky that was clearly a question. Kurt nodded; as much as he didn't like Karofsky, Kurt wasn't about to leave the guy here to die. "We have to get back to the safe house," Kurt announced. "Karofsky, you'd better come with us."

"I can't just leave my truck here-" Karofsky insisted.

"Look around you Karofsky!" Kurt exclaimed, trying to yell as quietly as he could. "This is fucking gay-Armageddon. If all you lose is your truck-"

"You drove here?" Blaine interrupted. At a nod, Blaine continued, "If they find it, they'll know you're still in the area. Kurt can you find your way back alone? We'll need to stash Karofsky's vehicle at the camp, and you've never been on the road there."

Kurt swallowed hard. It hurt that Blaine kept agreeing with Karofsky all of a sudden. He hated that he couldn't be rational about this, too. And he was all too aware of how dangerous it would be for Blaine to be on the road right now. But none of that could be changed. "Yeah. I can do that. Just be careful."

After Blaine and Karofsky were gone, Kurt regretted being too uncomfortable in front of his former bully to kiss his boyfriend.

* * *

It hadn't occurred to Kurt that cutting cross-country he'd arrive at the camp far earlier than Blaine and Karofsky. Leaving him with nothing to do but worry and nurse a growing headache. He tried to lie down on the sofa and rest, but he fell asleep. That only made things worse.

_Kurt remained at the campground, days stretching into month and then into years. He didn't see any point to moving after it became obvious that Blaine and Karofsky were never returning. _

"…_There's an overturned truck on route 25, and emergency crews are on the scene. Traffic is tied up in both directions. And now the weather…."_

_No one came back to the campground. With civil unrest spreading across the country, it seemed people had more important things to do than commune with nature. Eventually, it seemed that everyone forgot there even was a campground there._

"…_President Palin signed a decree today declaring martial law…."_

_Kurt was happy that Blaine hadn't lived to see his faith in human decency shattered. People complained less and less about intolerance against gays as the round-ups became more and more commonplace._

"…_I'm proud to say that good, god-fearing Americans can finally walk down the streets of I-ran City in safety. We share the same god, more or less, and now that we all have our priorities in order, we'll finally have us some peace…."_

_Eventually, high school students weren't enough anymore. Preschool teachers were required by law to inform the authorities if the children were having any 'gender problems'. And while no one liked the fact that these children were subsequently 'recalled' by the government, the tax credits supplied in those situations did help their grieving families._

_Kurt Hummel finally turned off the radio. Quite literally the last gay on Earth._

_

* * *

_

"Hey. Baby, we're back. Are you okay?"

Kurt opened his eyes and threw his arms around his worried boyfriend. "Are you okay? Did you run into any trouble?"

"No. Everything went fine." Blaine gently ran his fingers across Kurt's eyes, wiping away the tears. "I was asking if YOU were okay. I'm sorry if I worried you. I forgot how much longer it would take for us to get here."

"It's okay," Kurt insisted. And it was, now that Blaine was here. "Unfortunately, instead of worrying I fell asleep and had some rather pessimistic dreams."

"Must have been pretty bad if you of all people were upset by it, " Blaine teased gently.

"Let's not talk about it," Kurt suggested. "With any luck, we won't have to worry about it."

Blaine didn't seem to be in any hurry to let Kurt go, though. But before his cosseting could go any further, Karofsky interrupted. "Hummel. Your fridge is broken."

Kurt looked up. Karofsky was meekly putting away the groceries that Blaine had gotten. Kurt was irritated by the interruption, but given how cowed the former bully was Kurt didn't want to risk getting into yet another fight. "We have to conserve our resources, Karofsky. Besides, it's thirty degrees outside. We don't need refrigeration."

Blaine looked up at what Karofsky had in his hands. Kurt couldn't make it out, but Blaine had bought it, after all. "That'll be okay in the pantry for a couple of weeks," Blaine assured them.

Karofsky just nodded gruffly and went back to what he was doing. Kurt raised a surprised eyebrow. "It's a Christmas miracle. Or a New Years one," Kurt whispered quietly to Blaine. "He must be really scared."

"He is." Blaine blushed a little. "I may have helped a little."

"Really? Do tell."

Blaine seemed, for the moment, to be too embarrassed to continue. "Let's just say we had a good talk on the way here."

Now, that was far from enough to sate Kurt's curiosity. But before he could pursue further, Karofsky finished unpacking and headed over to the sofa. "I haven't slept in a day and a half. I don't suppose there's anywhere to crash."

Kurt froze. It also hadn't occurred to him that he'd be sharing SLEEPING quarters with Karofsky. As dangerous and frightening as McKinley had been, Kurt at least had the option to go back to his house, to his room, and lock out all thoughts of Karofsky for the night. Now that was impossible.

Kurt stood up, wrapping his chilliest reserve around him like a feather boa. "There are three bedrooms in the back. I've been sleeping in the first one, and Blaine in the second. By process of elimination, I suppose that leaves you with the last one. Given how no one is supposed to be up here at this time of the year, it would be wise not to do too much walking around at night."

Karofsky nodded, in that compliant way that was starting to freak Kurt out a little bit. "Thanks," he said. And he disappeared into the third bedroom.

Kurt sat down in a huff, noticing for the first time that Blaine was looking at him uneasily. "What?" Kurt asked, tensely. "I agreed that he could stay here, I don't want to share a wall with him."

"I understand." Blaine was sounding oddly formal, and Kurt couldn't figure out why until, "I just noticed that I unexpectedly acquired my own room again."

Kurt blushed as he sat down next to Blaine, anger swallowed by distress. "I'm sorry. I had to do that. I know the enemy of my enemy is my ally. But I don't want him mistaking mercy for trust. Or worse, interest."

"So you decided to put me PHYSICALLY between you and Karofsky," Blaine noted, sounding a little less hurt. "Does that mean that I don't necessarily need to stay in the room assigned to me?" he asked with a smile.

Kurt was too upset to enjoy it. "Honestly, I hope you don't," he admitted. "I not sure now if I'm going to be able to sleep while he's here."

Now Blaine looked distressed. "He's not going to hurt you," Blaine declared, his certainty surprising Kurt. "And he's not going to be sniffing around, either."

"I wish I could be that sure."

"You can be. Look," Blaine sighed. "I didn't want to tell you this, because I'm not proud of it. But I told Karofsky in no uncertain terms that if he laid a hand on you, romantic or otherwise, that I'd kill him."

"That's sweet." Kurt smiled, tired but touched.

"No, it isn't," Blaine insisted, darkly. "I also reminded him that under the current circumstances, I could dump his body and his truck in the lake. And on the off chance that someone found him, they'd assume the kidnappers were responsible."

Kurt's eyes widened, seeing an unexpected side of his boyfriend. "I know I should be worried by this, and maybe if we weren't in the middle of a war it might bother me. As it is, thank you."

"I'm not an ax-wielding psychopath," Blaine assured him, though Kurt thought he needed more to remind himself than Kurt. "But I wanted Karofsky to understand that I won't let him get to you anymore."

Kurt nodded, his slide into Blaine's lap more absolution than any words could be. And Kurt seriously didn't mind. "You're a Vanderbilt. You may be a nice guy, but you certainly know how to NOT be one."

"Exactly." Blaine smiled, letting the last of his guilt be balmed.

* * *

They'd all grabbed dinner for themselves when Karofsky woke up, and huddled around the radio again.

Despite Kurt's gloomy dream, the news was cautiously optimistic. With no idea who was behind the kidnappings, and who could reasonably be trusted, the President had formed a special task force, made up for now of military and police personnel who were either gay, or had missing family members. That would give them an immediate force on the ground which could be added to as background checks were completed.

It was a little awkward how Blaine and Kurt were being portrayed in the media. The news about the vans and the school records had been reported as being brought in, at great peril, by these two brave heroes. Nice to hear, but Kurt had a sinking sensation that when they finally made a movie about this, his portrayer was likely going to be a better groomed Paul Bunyan.

"At least you'll be bad ass," Karofsky complained. "They'll probably make me four and have you raising me after this is all over."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but Blaine laughed. When Kurt glared at him, Blaine just pointed out, "If that's the worst thing that ends up happening to us, we can count ourselves lucky."

Kurt privately admitted that Blaine was probably right, but he just turned back to the radio with a snippy, "Well, you're changing him."

"You know what I don't understand," Blaine wondered aloud. "Kurt, you never said anything about Karofsky kissing you-" Karofsky made an irritated sound, but quickly shut up when Blaine glanced sternly over at him. "So why are they after him?"

Kurt thought about that. Their kidnappers had made it certain that it was the school records that had gotten Kurt on their radar. But given that they were also after Karofsky, that was clearly far from their only resource. "Unless they're going under the theory that the most homophobic people are gay, in which case they might have a hell of a lot of confused straight boys on their hands."

"That would be truly ironic," Blaine decided. "Maybe we should try to figure something else out, though. Karofsky, are you sure there's no one else that knows?"

"Who else would have kept it a secret," Karofsky pointed out.

"Maybe they didn't," Kurt suggested. "Did anyone say anything? Something that everyone would probably ignore because they thought the idea of you being gay was ridiculous?"

"No, I-" Karofsky broke off. And it took all of Kurt's self control not to make a snide comment about Karofsky actually thinking.

Because if Kurt did, it was likely this brainstorming session would end right there. "Who was it?" Kurt asked.

"Nobody. Just that stupid jewfro," Karofsky dismissed.

Kurt sat up completely up on hearing, though. "Jacob ben Israel? Why would he say anything to you?"

"He didn't, really. It was that stupid blog of his. He came up to me and asked me about that 'bully's are secretly gay' thing. I shoved him into a locker and told him he was secretly a loser."

"That's not really a secret," Kurt pointed out.

Blaine was just as interested in this as Kurt was. "Did it end up on his blog?" Blaine asked.

"I don't know," Karofsky grimaced. "I don't read his fucking blog."

Blaine turned to Kurt, who just shrugged. "I didn't really keep up with it after I left."

"I really wish we could log onto the internet right now," Blaine sighed.

"My cell phone has internet access," Karofsky told him, pulling it out of his pocket. "How's the service out here?"

"Supposedly good," Kurt replied. "We can't call out though, or they'll be able to track us back here."

"That's just if we call someone, isn't it?" Karofsky asked.

"I'm afraid not," Blaine replied. "They've probably got someone keeping an eye on your number and IP address."

"So all we need is someone else's phone, and we've got all the internet we can handle?" Karofsky asked.

Kurt was about to snap at him, but stopped on realizing that Karofsky had actually had an honest-to-gaga idea. "Yeah, but that means going back into town again."

"Maybe we should wait a couple of days," Blaine suggested.

"That sounds like a good idea," Kurt agreed. So now all he had to do was figure out how he was going to survive living with Karofsky until then.

(to be continued)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Glee continues to not be mine. If it were, watching the previews for Tuesday's show wouldn't depress me so much. Fortunately, there's some steamy Klaine goodness in this chapter which made it a lot easier to write.

Those of you that have reviewed seem to really care about this fic, and that also makes it easier to be inspired. Thank you so much.

Chapter Five

Blaine found it rather ridiculous, in that he'd stormed enemy lines today. Was spotted and recognized once. Evaded capture at least that often. And had even gotten a loaded gun pointed at his face.

But he was still afraid to knock quietly on Kurt's bedroom door.

This wasn't how he was expecting things to go today. Granted things could have been worse, but they had more unanswered questions now. Not only did that potentially derail their rescue, but it also put them in more danger. He and Kurt certainly weren't free to just spend the next few days making love. Even if they hadn't ended up with a most INCONVENIENT guest.

Blaine sighed. He knew that Karofsky was going to behave himself, even without the additional threats he'd piled on the bully. From their talk in the truck on the way back to the cabin, it was clear Karofsky knew that he had no options if he screwed things up with Kurt and Blaine. But Kurt was still uncomfortable, and Blaine didn't know what to do about it. And charging into Kurt's bedroom for a night of passion, despite all that had happened, was something that made Blaine feel like a douche for even considering.

It was remembering what Kurt said, about not feeling safe alone, that finally prodded him to knock. Quietly, though from the loudness of Karofsky snoring, it wasn't likely the other boy would hear him. "Kurt? It's Blaine."

"Come in," came the quiet reply. Blaine opened the door to find Kurt snuggled securely under the covers. "Sorry for not opening the door," Kurt told him. "But I've already settled in, and the air is cold."

"Completely understandable." Blaine closed the door, started towards the bed, and froze. As with the night before, Kurt had neatly folded his clothing over the side of a steamer truck to prevent wrinkling. Even his crease proof flannel jacket, but that wasn't what startled Blaine.

Kurt's underwear was clearly visible on the top of the pile, neatly folded like all the rest.

"Oh my god," Blaine breathed.

Kurt blushed. "I know with the troubles we had in town, you didn't have time to get any protection. But if you still wanted to, there are things we could still do without it."

Blaine shook off his stupor, retrieving a small bag from his jacket pocket and tossing it on the bed. "Condoms and lube, as promised," he smiled. "You underestimate me, Mr. Hummel. It would have looked suspicious if I'd left before I finished my shopping."

Kurt took the bag, exposing a long bare arm as he did so. "So it would have."

Blaine slowly started stripping off his clothes, all too aware of Kurt's eyes on him. He took it as a good sign that it left him aroused rather than nervous. Not that he didn't make an effort to neatly lay down his discarded outfit. There was security in love, but not that much.

Kurt gasped as Blaine's underwear was removed. Blaine didn't like that look. It spoke of being in over your head. "Kurt, are you sure you want to do this? It's up to you, if you're not ready."

But Kurt shook his head, being ready didn't seem to be the problem. "Are YOU sure? Do you really want this?"

"You Kurt," Blaine clarified. "I want YOU." Kurt pulled back the covers beside him, to let Blaine into the bed. But Blaine pulled them all the way back, exposing Kurt's smooth pale form. "God, you're so beautiful," Blaine gasped.

Kurt blushed, and couldn't make eye contact. "Thank you." It was formal and out of place in the situation.

And Blaine finally understood. Except for the most screwed up person they both knew, no one had ever appreciated Kurt before. And he didn't realize how breathtaking he was. "You've got to trust me on this," Blaine insisted. "You are the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

Kurt was shocked by that. "I am?" He started to shiver, and it took Blaine a moment to realize it was from the cold air.

Blaine slid around Kurt, closing the blankets over top of them both. "You haunt me, Kurt Hummel. From the moment I first saw you, I responded before I even knew I had."

"I've wanted this for so long," Kurt admitted.

They kissed, bodies tangling even more than they had last night. More than anything, Blaine wanted to pour his desire all over Kurt and lick it back up. Let the other boy know how much Blaine valued him. Kurt's still chilled hands finally got brave enough to touch, making Blaine gasp when they found what they were looking for. "That feels so good, Kurt."

"I've never-" Kurt started to admit.

Blaine silenced him with a kiss. "Neither have I. Don't try to mimic anything. Just touch me where you want to touch me."

One of Kurt's hands stayed where it was, enjoying Blaine's length. But the other roamed across his body, surprising Blaine when it finally settled onto Blaine's ass, and deeper. "Oh my," Kurt murmured.

Blaine couldn't believe it. He'd honestly assumed that he'd be 'on top' when they finally did this. But Kurt's fingering was awaking in Blaine a need to be owned he had never had before. "Do you want that, Kurt? You can, that feels so good."

Kurt's eyes widened in rapt amazement. "I can? Blaine, I feel-" He broke off, unable to put it into words.

Blaine wasn't going to let Kurt go that easily. "Say it, love. Don't feel like it has to be proper. Just be honest."

"I want to be inside you, Blaine. Please," Kurt begged.

Blaine lunged for the lube and a condom, before Kurt had a chance to get nervous. He rolled Kurt on top of him, as it was just not possible to stay under the covers if Blaine was riding him. Blaine took a deep breath, relaxing himself as much as possible. "Now, Kurt."

Kurt sank into him, and for a moment Blaine literally couldn't breathe. He tried to calm himself, let that initial moment of hurt pass, but Kurt felt Blaine tense up. He froze in place. "Darling, did I hurt you?" Kurt worried.

But the discomfort was already passing, and Blaine shook his head. "Just give me a minute. I've never done this before and if you didn't already know, you're a couple inches above average in every study I've ever seen." Kurt's blushing took up the remainder of the time it took for Blaine to adjust. "I'm ready, Kurt."

Blaine almost stopped breathing again, but for a very different reason. Being with Kurt like this was good. Too amazing to be believed. Kurt must have felt the same way, because the look of utter disbelief would have been funny if Blaine had the room in his head and heart for something other than the total ecstasy he was feeling.

And then Kurt was biting his lip, his attention focused inward. And Blaine knew that Kurt was close to orgasm. Blaine laughed with joy purer than he'd ever felt. "Don't try, my love. I want to feel you cum."

"Blaine! I need to- Thank you-" And then Kurt was gone. It was a marvel seeing him lose control like this. Moaning. Shaking.

But just when Blaine thought Kurt was going to fall boneless into his arms, Kurt withdrew from inside Blaine and took Blaine into his mouth.

It was too much. The change of sensations from being penetrated, then the sudden withdrawal, and finally the sweet pressure on his manhood completely undid Blaine. He turned his face into his pillow because he couldn't restrain his scream.

Blaine's orgasm seemed to go on forever. And it wasn't until he collapsed, spent, against the bed that Kurt finally joined him there. "That was amazing," Kurt murmured.

"Truly," Blaine agreed. "Remind me to spend the rest of our lives doing that."

As soon as he said it, though, he knew it was a mistake. Kurt looked haunted and turned to lie facing away from Blaine. "I will. Whether it be a hundred years or another couple of minutes."

* * *

Despite the grim moment before they fell asleep, when Blaine woke up to an empty bed and went on a search for Kurt, he found his new lover in a surprisingly good mood. Of course, it helped that Kurt and Karofsky had already helped themselves to coffee.

Karofsky, on the other hand, seemed out of sorts already. And when he saw Blaine, something in Blaine that morning made Karofsky grunt with annoyance. "So how was it, Hummel?" he asked, with an irritating leer on his face.

Blaine's jaw dropped open in shock, but it didn't seem to affect Kurt at all. "Better than you'll ever know," Kurt sneered back.

"Ain't that sweet."

"Hey!" Blaine exclaimed. They weren't honestly doing anything other than engaging in playful banter, but he knew that things were too likely to go south at this stage. "Come on. I know this is awkward, but we're all in this together. And it's going to go a lot easier on all of us if we can get along."

"I'm getting along fine," Karofsky insisted. "I don't care who Hummel's taking it from."

"First of all," Kurt purred. "You're making a big assumption about my sex life. Secondly, you seemed fairly interested when you attacked me in the locker room."

That stung. "I didn't- I sure as hell don't care about you," Karofsky insisted.

"Then why did you do it?" Kurt snapped, mood gone as suddenly as Blaine predicted. "That was my first kiss, and I'll never have that back!"

"Neither will I! I just thought-"

Kurt backed off, suddenly recognizing that he was cornering Karofsky again, and it hadn't ended all that great last time. But Karofsky had already clammed up. Blaine moved over to Karofsky, concerned. He knew he was poking a bear, but there was something about a closeted boy he couldn't leave alone. "What did you think? Calmly though, please."

Karofsky sneered at him. "Forget it."

"Look," Blaine insisted. "We've got nothing but time here. You're out. You might as well work through it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Karofsky asked.

"He's right," Kurt noted, not looking at either of them. Trying to get his emotions under control. "Everyone knows about the kidnappings by now. Once they realize you're missing, it won't take an enormous amount of intelligence to figure out why they took you."

Karofsky paled at that. "Fuck."

"It's okay," Blaine insisted. "Believe me, as cliché as it sounds it does get better. But you're going to have to trust us."

Karofsky stared at him for a long time. But ultimately he gave in. "Fine. I kissed him, and I thought he'd kiss me back. I didn't know there was someone else."

"That's not why I didn't kiss you," Kurt admitted quietly. "Even if you were my type, you scare me too much to be that intimate with you."

Karofsky looked a little unsettled at that, but he ignored it. "Well I told you I don't care if you don't want me."

"Do you want to talk about what you do want?" Blaine asked.

Kurt's eyes widened a little, for reasons Blaine wasn't clear on. Karofsky seemed unable to respond, and Kurt strode into the breach. "It's none of our business, Blaine."

Blaine raised an eyebrow at that, but persevered. "If you want to talk, I think we've proven we won't say anything."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it," Kurt suggested. "We've all had our share of ridiculous crushes."

"Hey!" Karofsky exclaimed, irritated. "Azimio is nothing like that loser Hudson. He's smart, funny-" He broke off as he realized what he was saying. Kurt smiled at him, with an unexpected amount of sympathy.

Not that Blaine knew who Azimio was; what Blaine knew about Kurt's old school was limited to New Directions, and the current situation. But it seemed like Kurt was aware of who that was, and wasn't surprised. "I'm glad this makes sense to you," he told Kurt.

"Once he said he wasn't interested in me, there wasn't a whole lot of other choices," Kurt shrugged. "It was either Azimio or else Karofsky didn't learn anything from my failed crush on Finn and tried it himself."

Karofsky circled the room anxiously. Despite the adage the truth will set you free, he still looked caged. "Fuck," he repeated. He didn't seem able to say anything else for a while, before he turned for the door. "I gotta get some air."

He stormed out of the cabin, but to Kurt and Blaine's relief he didn't go any further than the lake edge. Kurt walked to the window and shook his head. "Now why couldn't he have just done that two months ago?" he sighed.

Blaine moved in to finally hug Kurt that morning. "Maybe just destiny's way of making sure we got together."

"Destiny should have just stuck with the original plan of us being Glee rivals," Kurt countered with another sigh (sighing seemed to be Kurt's favorite pastime these days). "You'd have still sung 'Teenage Dream' for me. I'd have never reported anything. And while Karofsky would be currently sleeping in his own bed, you'd have no doubt whisked me off to Milan for New Years."

Blaine laughed. One of the things he loved about Kurt was his ability to dream big. Even when it went beyond all likelihood. "Keep dreaming, beautiful. All problems aside, I think this is a very romantic safe house we've got ourselves here."

"Well now that it's not so crowded at the moment," Kurt suggested, " maybe it's time we headed back to bed."

"Maybe. Or now that we know Karofsky won't be spying on us, maybe we should see if we can get enough hot water boiled to make that bathtub in the back warm enough for two."

"Oh," Kurt gasped playfully. "Sex AND cleanliness. You certainly know how to get my attention."

Blaine gave Kurt a soft kiss. "Put the kettle on. I'll haul some water to fill the tub with."

They went to their assigned tasks. With Kurt finishing his first, he turned the radio on for company while he watched Blaine exert himself. It was good fun, with Blaine making a point of flexing while he worked, and Kurt playfully fanning himself.

But then all of a sudden he rushed over to the radio, shocked. Blaine couldn't hear what Kurt had heard, but Kurt called out. "Blaine, come quick."

Blaine hurried to Kurt, dread settling around them both.

"…confirms that Karofsky was involved in the killing of at least one officer in an alley on fourth street. He is considered to be armed and dangerous. Anyone spotting him should immediately phone the County Sheriff's Office. Again, for those just joining us, we finally have a name in connection with the current kidnappings: David Karofsky of Lima, Ohio. Stay tuned for more after these messages."

(to be continued)


	6. Chapter 6

Okay. Okay, it's been several days since the BIOTA incident and I've pretty much calmed down. Hopefully there's still a market for some Klaine.

Thanks so much for all the new reviews. I have to admit that though I have gone back and forth on the issue, Kurt being a top just feels right to me. Hilariously enough, especially considering how many people complain that Chris Colfer is playing himself, this is another area I get the feeling Chris is different from Kurt. Not that I know one way or the other.

Probably the last smut we'll have for a while, because we're getting into the home stretch.

* * *

From Our Hiding Places, We Sing Songs of Deliverance, Part Six

It took Dave half an hour to calm himself enough to face Hummel and Anderson again. He almost didn't go back, wondering if the two might have taken advantage of him not being there and gotten horizontal. But it was his safe house too, and if they were stupid enough to go at it in the public areas of the cabin then they deserved whatever show they gave him.

But when he came back in, Dave noticed that the mood inside hadn't improved. Anderson and Hummel were sitting across from each other, not like they weren't speaking but too wrapped up in what they were thinking about to notice the other. Kurt didn't even look up when he came in, fingers steepled against his mouth, but Anderson looked up, concerned. "Karofsky- Dave. You need to sit down. We need to talk."

What the fuck was that? Were they kicking him out? "No wait," Dave pleaded, rattled. "I know I'm pissing Hummel off, but I'm really trying. Give me another chance."

Kurt gave a dark chuckle, but otherwise didn't move. "Oh, believe me. You're not going anywhere, particularly now."

Dave calmed a little, accepting Anderson's gesture to sit. "What's going on?"

"There's been… a development," Anderson admitted. "It's not good news. Apparently, they found the cop you killed-"

"Wait, he died?" Dave exclaimed. He couldn't breathe suddenly. It was one thing to insist that he didn't have any choice. But knowing that he'd actually killed someone- Dave felt something on his cheeks and realized with embarrassment that he was actually crying.

Hummel was looking at him now, face pale with unwanted sympathy. He still seemed unable to move, though. "They're telling everyone you killed him because he was trying to find us."

"Well, yeah." Thank you, Hummel for reminding me. This is most definitely not my fault.

So why am I still crying?

"You're missing the point," Anderson sighed. "As far as everyone else is concerned, they're the good guys. And since they don't want you correcting everyone, they're saying that you're in league with the kidnappers."

Dave was stunned. This was worse than the worst thing he could have ever thought of. "But they- I'm the one-"

"We know," Kurt noted quietly. "But the world at large doesn't."

"What- What am I going to do?"

"WE," Blaine emphasized, "aren't going to do anything right now. You're safe enough here, for now. The next time we need to sneak into town, Kurt and I can go alone, and let my cousin know what's really going on."

"But until then my MOM- my DAD- they'll all think I'm a murderer," Dave told them.

Apparently Dave's distress was finally too much for Kurt to take; he got up and sat near Dave. "Your parents love you," Kurt insisted, and Dave wondered how he knew that from that one interview with Sylvester. "They'll know this doesn't add up and wait for you to explain yourself."

Dave wasn't quite sure of that. "I wish they WERE reporting me as a fag."

"LANGUAGE, Dave," Kurt sighed. He shook his head. "I can't believe it. I knew they were going to have to do something to discredit you, in case you got to the media. But THIS?"

"They're kidnapping us, en masse," Anderson reminded them. "I don't think we can discount anything they might do."

Hummel finally looked up at Anderson, his eyes wide. "The others-" Kurt worried. "Do you think they're all dead?"

"Why would they kidnap us if they could just shoot us and leave our bodies wherever?" Dave countered.

"I don't know," Kurt admitted. "But if there were a concentration camp out there, wouldn't the government's spy satellites have picked it up?"

"Maybe," Anderson allowed. "But maybe not. Maybe there isn't much difference between an internment camp and say, a logging camp."

"Either way," Kurt told them. "I don't think we should wait any longer. We need to get to a phone, now."

"It's too dangerous to try and slip into town now," Blaine insisted. "We're better off waiting a few days, until they get through searching there, and widen their perimeter."

No one spoke; it was apparent that as soon as the County Sheriff's office widened their net, that this camp ground would likely be in it.

* * *

Dave was taking 'a nap' ( a euphemism that Kurt suspected was code for crying his eyes out), and despite the fact that they were highly discouraged by recent news, Blaine had talked Kurt into taking their bath. Kurt hadn't realized how tense his body was until Blaine was behind him, working his aching muscles. "Oh, MY. That feels good," he moaned.

Blaine gently kissed Kurt on the neck, as he took care of two particularly sore spots just under Kurt's shoulder blades. "The water, or my rubbing your back?" he asked.

"Both," Kurt purred. "You know what we should do?"

Blaine slid a hand further down into the water. "See if you're as tight as I am?" he teased.

Kurt playfully swatted Blaine's hand away. He wasn't sure if he wanted to try bottoming or not. And there was one more bit of planning he needed to take care of before he could really get into this. "I think you should give us a tour of the camp grounds when Karofsky 'wakes up'. If we're going to be here for a while, maybe we can find something to do that it's not too cold for."

"A lovely idea," Blaine replied. "Although I'm not sure I like that my fondling you reminds you of Dave Karofsky," he added cheekily.

Kurt turned around in the tub and kissed Blaine determinedly. Returned the favor on Blaine's stiff shoulder muscles. "I just needed some transition time. I'm here now."

Blaine reached under the water again, smiling when he wrapped his hand around Kurt's hardness. "You certainly are."

Kurt was surprised when Blaine pushed him backwards. Until Kurt realized that he was on his knees, and Blaine was-

His mouth. "Oh," Kurt whimpered. He had to quickly grab the tub surround with both hands to steady himself.

He DEFINITELY wasn't thinking about Dave Karofsky anymore.

* * *

Dave had finally been coaxed out of his room by the promise of lunch (though if he'd had more than coffee that morning, they might have had a problem). Kurt was in a much better mood after his bath, and Blaine breathed a sigh of relief that they seemed to be getting along for the time being.

Blaine took up Kurt's excellent idea, and offered a tour of the camp grounds as soon as lunch was finished and cleared up. Dave brightened at the offer, while Kurt made what seemed to be reluctant acceptance, so it wasn't too obvious that this was a diversionary effort.

Once outside, Blaine was pleased to see Kurt unexpectedly delighted with the place. Not that it was too difficult. They didn't get a lot of storms in this area, and the leaves generally didn't completely fall from the trees until mid-February. Which left them with a late autumn of reds, oranges, and the occasional ever green. "It's so beautiful out here," Kurt admitted. "I haven't really had a chance to notice, with everything that's gone on."

Blaine smiled at him. And since Kurt was currently admiring the lake, Blaine decided to show him (and Dave, of course) the surrounding area before touring the camp itself. "Wait until you see the stream down this way. There's a colony of beavers set up down there."

"That'll be something to tell everyone," Dave quipped. "When they ask what we did while we were on the run, we can tell them we checked out the local beaver."

Kurt's head snapped around to face Dave, but to Blaine's relief, Kurt actually laughed at that. A few moments later though, he gave a most unmanly shriek. "What the hell is that?"

Blaine turned to see what Kurt was looking at. His immediate concern turned to confusion. "Kurt, those are the beavers I was telling you about."

"That?" Kurt gaped, astonished. "They're- They're HUGE."

Dave looked over at the rodents, just as puzzled as Blaine was. "They look normal beaver size to me."

Kurt tried to close his mouth, succeeding on his fourth try. "Really? I mean, I've only ever seen them on Canadian money. I assumed they were about the size of cats."

"You are such a city boy," Dave laughed.

"How did you manage to go to Canada and not see any wildlife?" Blaine asked. The question was meant teasingly, but Kurt's face lost expression in that specific way it did when he was sad and not wanting to let on. "Are you okay, Kurt?"

Kurt smiled sadly at him. "I'm fine. My mom took me to Montreal when- after she got sick." And it was amazing that he was willing to say this with Karofsky right there. "She wanted to take me to Paris, but it was just too far away at that point."

"Too far for what?" Dave asked, puzzled. "I thought your family was loaded."

"Well, we're not like Blaine's family, but we get by." Kurt looked sidelong at Dave, pensive. Finally, he noted, "Haven't you ever wondered why no one ever mentions my mother? She was too sick to travel then."

Dave took another moment to digest that, then his face dropped. "Kurt, I- No, I didn't know."

"Not many people do. Even New Directions only knows she died, and not how it happened."

Blaine pulled Kurt into his arms. He loved how brave Kurt was, but it hurt when he knew that Kurt was suffering alone. "That's because you don't let anyone in, Kurt."

Kurt blushed and pulled back a little, no doubt realizing how exposed he was at the moment. "Well, I know better now. About beavers, I mean. Since you two seem so familiar with them, why don't you run me through a quick tutorial."

Dave looked at him, puzzled. "That's a beaver. They make dams. People make hats out of them. I don't know what else I can tell you about them."

Kurt smiled. "That's just fine." They watched quietly until Kurt let out an envious groan. One of the beavers swam towards their lodge with a fish in his mouth. "I am already sick of dried staples. Where do you think we should go once this is all over?"

Blaine and Dave didn't confer, but simultaneously answered "McDonald's."

Kurt let out his loudest sigh ever, and turned to Blaine. "If you hook up with him, I promise you I'll beat you to death with your own tail like the troglodyte you are," Kurt warned.

"I think we established that neither of us is his type," Blaine laughed. "Have I mentioned how much I love your smart mouth?"

"Yeah, when it's not directed at me, it's my second favorite thing about you, Hummel," Dave noted.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected that kind of openness, either. "What's the first?"

Dave blushed at that. Clearly he hadn't expected to say it any more than Blaine had. "Well, you know…. If he was my type, my favorite thing would probably be the way his ass fills out a Cheerios uniform."

It was over the line, and for a moment Kurt just stood there, shocked. In fact, Dave looked like he was seconds from apologizing. But then Kurt smiled shakily and tried to appreciate the compliment for what it was. "Well, your theoretical self has my thanks."

Blaine cleared his throat and tried to think of a distraction. His hopes were answered in the worst way though, with the sound of a helicopter overhead. Blaine looked up, trying to see it, but he spotted something else instead. "Oh, no."

"Blaine, what-" Kurt broke off as both he and Dave saw what Blaine had.

They'd kept the temperature at the cabin at bare minimum, so as to keep their gas reserves as long as possible. What none of them had stopped to consider was that even that little bit of use created a whiff of smoke wafting up from the cabin.

Leading the helicopter right to it.

"Get down," Blaine demanded. They both did as he said, but Blaine could see Kurt was tempted to bolt. "No. I don't know what kind of equipment they have. But if they have those infrared cameras and we stay here, we might just blend in with the Beaver colony."

"That's a big might," Kurt noted, anxiously.

"It's about all we've got right now," Blaine reminded him.

Blaine looked over at Dave, to make sure he wasn't planning on running, either. Dave's face was away from theirs, but from the way his shoulders were shaking he was crying and/or terrified. Before Blaine could do anything though, Kurt reached out to take Dave's hand in his. Dave looked at Kurt, shocked. His eyes were full, but he wasn't actually crying.

Dave looked down at their joined hands and took a calming breath. "Thanks."

They stayed out there, at the side of the beaver pond for several hours. Their only hope being the warm bodies around them, and the hope that no one would venture this far from the campsite. Finally, as night fell they heard the sound of the helicopter taking off and departing.

Once they could no longer make out the sound of chopper blades, they all stood. Kurt brushed his clothes once, and was suddenly immaculate again. Blaine didn't know how he did it. "That was too close," Kurt vocalized as they headed back to the cabin. "Blaine, we need to get out of here."

"I know," Blaine replied. "We'd better leave tonight. Maybe if it's the middle of the night, they'll-"

"Oh fuck." Dave was on the run, the other boys close behind. They were nearly on top of the camp ground before Kurt and Blaine saw what Dave had.

The cabin was on fire. Actually, that was an understatement. What was left of the cabin looked like one of the lower reaches of hell. The little garage attachment had been crushed under the weight of the burning gas tank along with the ATV.

Blaine could do nothing but stand there and stare. They'd only been there a few days, but he'd already come to associate it with his relationship with Kurt. The first two times he and Kurt had made love, he'd hoped to come back here in the summer. Make all the other Warblers mad with curiosity when Kurt blushed on seeing the cabin.

And now it was all gone. His face was almost burning with the heat of the fire, but his body was ice cold.

Dave looked off at the bush again, hoping against hope that they hadn't found the truck. So he was the only one who saw the cop the Sheriff's Office had left behind. He barely had time to scream Kurt's name.

Before the officer grabbed Kurt by the throat and put a gun to his cheek.

(to be continued)


	7. Chapter 7

I want to briefly thank everyone again for their reviews. Now, on with the story.

Part Seven

Kurt didn't need the oily voice in his ear telling him not to move. Not only was he smart enough to know he couldn't outmaneuver a man with a gun literally held to his head, but the man had a grip on Kurt's throat so tight he could barely breathe, let alone move. He tried to remember if he still had the gun Dave had taken, but no. It was currently in the flaming wreck of the cabin.

Blaine, ever the gentleman he was, raised his hands slowly and tried to reason with the guy. "You don't need to do this. I know you've heard a lot of confusing things the last couple of days. But we're not the bad guys here."

"Save your breath," the guy replied. "I know there's some guys out there that don't know which side we're on, but we're not stupid enough to let any of 'em be the one that waited you out."

Kurt gathered from that that the guy behind him was from the Sheriff's office (no doubt Blaine and Dave had already figured that out). "Where-" he wheezed. The bad cop was at least willing to release a little of the pressure on Kurt's throat, so he continued, "Where are the others? What did you do to them?"

"I think you already know too much, 'hero'," the man sneered. Blaine and Dave were slowly stepping away from each other. It was too obviously a flanking attempt, because the pressure on Kurt's throat intensified at the man snapped. "Don't move. One more step, and your friend has a hole where his head used to be."

Blaine dutifully froze, but then Dave did the last thing any of them expected.

He laughed. Loud, and a little scary.

"What do you really think is funny about this?" the bad cop sneered.

"You don't know as much as you think you do." Gone was the Dave that they'd seen all day. The one who was scared. The one who was actually a little fun. This was the Karofsky that had stolen a wedding decoration just to scare Kurt. "Let me fill you in. This is Kurt Hummel: he transferred to some ritzy private school because he was too scared of how much I wanted to fuck him. That there is Blaine, Kurt's pansy-assed replacement for me." All mostly true from Karofsky's point of view.

Except oddly, Dave had introduced Blaine as Kurt, and Kurt as Blaine.

"I don't care," the bad cop told him. Dave started to move towards him. The guy got nervous and pushed the gun tighter into Kurt's neck. "I mean it!"

"I know. That's what so funny," Dave insisted. "You've got the guy I hate more than anybody caught by the throat. You just have to shoot him, I take you down while you're distracted. And I get Kurt all to myself."

The bad cop was looking worried, starting to wonder if he had himself a useless hostage.

Blaine, realizing what Dave was trying to do, played along. "Please, Dave. Killing Blaine isn't going to make me love you."

Dave kept walking.

The guy holding Kurt got more nervous. Dave didn't seem to care if 'Blaine' died. And the bad cop seemed uncertain as to whether he should stay how he was, or turn his gun towards the bigger threat.

The guy waffled.

And for a split second, the gun wasn't pointed at anyone.

Dave shoved the gun away as he literally tore the guy off of Kurt. Knowing that even a jock would have little chance taking down a fully trained County officer, Kurt started kicking and punching every square inch of the guy he could get at. And Blaine finally ended things with a punch that sent the bad cop to the ground, unconscious.

As soon as it was apparent the guy wasn't getting back up, Dave pointed their new gun preemptively at him while Blaine rushed to embrace Kurt. Blaine's hand was bruised and bloody, but he didn't seem to notice. "Baby, are you okay?"

"Considering the circumstances." His throat burned, but it didn't seem to have injured his voice. Kurt gave Blaine a wobbly smile. "At least it puts the cabin burning down in perspective."

Blaine turned back to the fire, paling a little. "We have to get out of here. I'll grab some rope from the boat house and tie this guy up."

Dave must have frisked the guy, because when he turned over the gun, he also handed over a cell phone that wasn't his. "I gotta check on my truck. If he moves before Blaine gets back, shoot him."

Dave turned away before Kurt could respond, but Kurt couldn't let this go so easily. "Dave!" Karofsky turned around at Kurt's call. "Dave, you risked your life to save me. Well, you risked both of our lives," he added with a smile. "But I- Thank you."

Dave grinned at him and continued on without a word. Kurt called after him again. "Even if your truck looks okay, don't start it until I get a chance to look under the hood."

It wasn't likely that anyone had put a bomb on the ignition. But it was a little late in the game to get careless.

* * *

They'd been driving for less than thirty seconds when Dave brought it up. He knew that Kurt could possibly be cool about this, but Blaine was likely to make a big deal about it. "You know, they aren't keeping tabs on that guy's cell."

"True," Blaine admitted. "But if we call ahead to Dalton and it's a number they are tapping, it'll let them know where we're going."

"I don't want to call Dalton. I- I want to call my mom and dad."

Kurt looked from Dave to Blaine in rapid succession. Dave lowered his eyes; despite the fact that he needed support on this, it was awkward knowing how he sad and unhopeful he knew he looked. Kurt saw anyway though, and got a similar pleading look on his face.

Blaine sighed. "Don't you both look at me like that. It's not fair." he smiled softly. "Look, I'm not the boss of the phones. If you both want Dave to call, then you should call. Just try to keep it short; if we get picked up on a Westerville cell tower, it'll be the same as calling Dalton ourselves."

"Sounds fair," Kurt assured him.

The truck cab went completely silent as Dave dialed the number. He got more and more tense as the phone rang, to the point where he almost hung up twice before his mom even answered. Hearing her again, he found he couldn't speak. She had to say 'hello' twice before he could find the voice. "Mom, it's me."

"Dave?" His mom sounded breathless for a moment, they shouted out for his dad. Turning her attention back to the phone, she asked, "Dave, where are you? They've been saying some awful things on TV-"

"I know, Mom. They aren't true, I swear it!"

"We believe you, son." His dad joined his mom on the phone. Dave wasn't sure if he was right beside her, or if his dad had picked up the extension. "I know you've been going through some rough patches right now, but I can't believe you'd ever do something like this willingly."

"I'm not doing it unwillingly, either," Dave insisted. Damnit, had he really been so out of control that even his parents thought he was working for homophobes? "The County Sheriff is after me because I know they're helping the kidnappers! And because-"

Dave broke off, the old fear fighting the current one. He knew that he had to tell them the truth if he was going to have any chance of going home. But it was so hard. He looked over at Kurt. Brave, proud Kurt, who was holding his breath, waiting. And Dave realized that more than anything, he wanted to be that brave. "Because I'm gay."

There was another pause, this time on the other end.

"Is that what that incident with that boy at school was about?" his dad asked, though not unkindly.

"Yeah," Dave admitted. "Kurt knew who I really was, and I was leaning on him to keep him quiet. It's okay now. I'm with Kurt and his boyfriend, and they've been really nice to me. Even when they didn't have to be." Dave could see Kurt smile a little, and it made that knot that had been living inside of him for so long ease a little.

"That's good."

"Davey, I don't understand." His mom sounded upset, but it wasn't from what Dave was expecting. "Did your father and I give you any- ANY - reason to think that we wouldn't accept you if you told us you were gay."

"No, mom, I-" Dave broke off again, this time trying to fight off tears. He couldn't believe that after what he'd just told them that she was worried that they'd somehow failed him. "It was me. I'M the one who didn't accept me. I was so scared- I'm still scared, Mommy…."

And now Dave WAS crying, and so were his parents. "I know, son," his dad told him. "I'm going to go over Mr. Hummel's right now and let him know what's happening. He'll be able to contact the government task force and set the record straight."

And with that, it seemed like all the tension was gone. It might have been naïve, but he still felt like his parents could fix everything. "Thanks daddy."

Kurt felt it necessary to put in his two cents, just in case his dad wasn't as accepting of Dave's story as Dave's father was. Leaning against Dave's side (a position that would have been unacceptable as recently as that afternoon) he said, "Mr. Karofsky, this is Kurt Hummel. I just wanted to say that Dave has really been exemplary in all this. I think we might have both misjudged each other."

That was enough to pull Dave into a weak chuckle. "You're only half right. I'm positive now that you can be a mouthy bitch if you wanna be."

Kurt laughed. "Don't you know it." Turning back to the phone, he concluded soberly. "But you guys should be really proud of your son."

"We are," Mrs. Karofsky told him. "We love you, honey."

"I love you too." Dave shut the phone abruptly, because he knew he couldn't do it if he thought about it too much. He really didn't want to sit there in awkward silence, so he made a good effort toward pulling himself together and asked, "So what's the plan when we get into town?"

Blaine looked at Dave closely, Dave hoping the whole time that Blaine would just drop his obsessive need to psychoanalyze him. "There's a junior Warbler with a van," Blaine ultimately told him. "I should be able to convince him I'm Wes and send him on a supply run."

"Why?" Kurt asked. "I mean, I don't think they'd be bugging Theo's phone, and I REALLY don't think he'd betray us."

"I don't think so, either," Blaine stated. "But I'd feel a lot better if he didn't know he was giving us a ride back into Dalton until he saw us."

Well, that topic went back to depressing awfully fast. They drove in silence for a while, until Kurt decided to turn on the CD player.

"Wait-" Dave yelped, automatically. Adam Lambert blasted from the speakers, but by that point he'd remembering he didn't have to hide this from them.

In fact, Kurt was smiling as soon as he heard the first word sung. "Dave, there may be hope for you, after all."

"Do you sing, Dave?" Blaine asked with his own smile.

"Just in my truck," he admitted. It was weird not having to be so guarded, but it felt good.

"Good enough." Blaine started singing along with the CD.

"We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh, yeah the big time hitters

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh, yeah the big time hitters."

Blaine turned to Dave, who eventually was convinced to sing. Kurt raised his eyebrow in surprise as Dave's voice was apparently better than Kurt had expected.

"Flip the switch and the missile will fire

I'm a heat seeker and I'm full of desire

You're all drawn to the heat of the flame

Cause you wanna be a star in our hall of fame."

Dave handed the song off, knowing full well Kurt was born to sing the next part.

"I was born with glitter on my face

My baby clothes were made of leather and lace."

But then Kurt waved them both in and they all sang:

"All the girls in the club wanna know

Where did all their PRETTY BOYS go?

We are, we are, we are the SURE FIRE WINNERS."

By the time they got to Westerville, they were almost sorry to see it.

* * *

Wesley Kim watched as one of the junior Warblers ran off, as far as the boy knew, on Wes' orders. "I told him to get some Red Vines?" he repeated, more to himself than to his friend David.

"Blaine?" David asked. Blaine didn't actually like Red Vines; it was an inside joke between Blaine and the council. Presumably so that if Theo actually ran into Wes, the Warbler's leader would play along.

As he had. "It seems likely," Wes noted. He thought for a moment before asking, "Is our little stalker still outside?"

"Hunkered down in his car for the night," David replied. "At least, he was the last time anyone checked."

"Grab some guys from the rugby team and bring him in," Wes requested. "I'm guessing Kurt and Blaine will need some answers when they get here. And I intend to have them."

* * *

When Nick Stokes knocked on the door of the Hummel house, and Mrs. Hummel let him in, he was surprised to see that Mr. and Mrs. Karofsky were there in the living room with Mr. Hummel. Despite how high handed the locals were being about 'their' suspect (that lack of protocol had left Nick with a nagging unease towards them), he was willing to entertain the possibility that they might be looking for the right guy. It seemed unlikely that his parents would be here visiting with the father of one of the missing boys.

Nick moved to shake Mr. Hummel's hand, and show off his federal ID. "Nick Stokes, I'm with the Federal Task Force. You said that you had information on the kidnappings?"

Burt nodded, but deferred to Mr. Karofsky. "Agent Stokes," Mr. Karofsky announced. "My son called me today, and told me in no uncertain terms that he is innocent of the charges leveled against him."

Not unexpected, but Nick really hoped there was more to it than simple familial loyalty. "It's a possibility," Nick allowed. "Between you and me, the Sheriff's office isn't supposed to be handling this. Until the President signs off on someone, we're supposed to assume they've been compromised."

"Well, they definitely have," Burt told him. "Karofsky's son told him the Sheriff's office is working with whoever went after the boys."

Nick's eyes widened, but he had an icy chill in his stomach that told him this wasn't completely a surprise. "Does he have any proof of this?"

Mr. Karofsky sighed. "If he did, he didn't mention it. But he has to be innocent. He's traveling with Kurt Hummel and his boyfriend. I spoke to Kurt and he confirmed everything Dave said."

Burt continued the narrative. "Kurt and Dave have never been friends. If Kurt is working with him now, he's in as much danger as the other kids are. Maybe more."

"And your son, he's-" Nick broke off his questioning of Mr. Karofsky. Whether Dave was gay or not wasn't at issue right now. Especially since what he was hearing was relevant to something else he needed to discuss with the Hummels. "Never mind. You said you spoke to him? When was that?"

"About half an hour before we called the Task Force," Carole Hummel noted, sounding a little irritated with him. "And that was AN HOUR ago."

"I know," Nick apologized. "We're still a little thin on ranks right now, and there was an incident that we wanted to look at before someone talked to you."

"What incident?" Mrs. Karofsky worried.

"There was a fire at a private campground this evening," Nick told them. "We found a County Officer tied up outside, but he isn't talking. Now, we haven't found any bodies," he added to allay concern. "But we did find this."

Nick held up a plastic baggie that Burt grabbed immediately. A warped circle of gold, it was scorched and partially melted. But you could still read the inscription: Winner, 2010 National Competition.

Burt went to his knees. There was a good likelihood that Kurt was not only safe, but still free. But it took nothing of the pain away to see what was left of his medal. "Kurt won this last year, at the big cheerleading competition."

Carole knelt down beside him. "He left it behind. They said there weren't any bodies, and the boys called. Kurt's okay."

"We weren't sure what had happened," Nick admitted. "It sounds like the boys managed to slip out of the trap, though. And took one of their guys down on the way."

"Then that means Dave is right," Mr. Karofsky stated. "The County Sherriff-"

"I need to call this in," Nick told them. He pulled out a pair of business cards, giving one each to Mr. Karofsky and Carole. "This is my personal number. If one of the boys calls, let me know immediately."

"I don't know," Carole admitted. "After everything that's happened, it's hard to trust you with our son's whereabouts."

"I understand," Nick replied. "If it was my partner who was missing, I'd be just as uneasy about trusting someone. But you can trust anyone with ID saying they're on the Task Force. And you need to trust us. This isn't about leads anymore; if they can name names, then those boys are in serious danger."

* * *

"It's good to see you two," Wes smiled in relief as Kurt and Blaine walked in. As Dave followed them in though, Wes became confused. "Wait, isn't that-"

"Yes and no," Kurt replied.

"That is Dave Karofsky," Blaine confirmed. "But he isn't the homophobic co-conspirator some people are claiming he is."

Wes just nodded, serene again. "Good to hear. Right this way, gentlemen."

Wes led them down to the lower reaches of the school, where even Kurt had only been a few times before. Dave scoffed at the idea that they needed to remove their shoes when they got to their destination, but did as requested.

"What's going on?" Blaine asked. "I get that we're here sub rosa, but isn't the hidden chamber a little skull and dagger, even for you?"

"Actually, we have an informant on ice here," Wes stated, ignoring Blaine's dig. "He's been spying on us for the last several days, no doubt because the kidnappers are spread as thin as the Federal Task Force is. He wasn't any more successful a spy than Kurt was."

"Good to hear," Kurt replied. "Who is it?"

"We aren't sure," Wes admitted. "He seems to know you, though." Wes opened the door, which was literally a hidden panel in the wall, and led them inside.

Just that morning (though it seemed days ago), Kurt and Dave had considered the possibility that Jacob Ben Israel had supplied the kidnappers with the knowledge that Dave, like Kurt, was gay. It seemed that he had done far more than that.

Because when Wes brought them to the chair, flanked with rugby toughs, that the spy was detained in, Kurt recognized Jacob immediately.

"YOU!"

(to be continued)

Nick Stokes belongs, naturally, to Jerry Bruckheimer Television and CBS Productions. Though the version I'm using here is the same one from my story 'Santa Baby' (knowledge of which is unneeded for this story, except for answering the question of how Nick and Greg were able to get onto the Federal Task Force).


	8. Chapter 8

Dalton is still a boarding school in this story. Because everything prior to the Superbowl episode implied it was. Really, why would Kurt be studying there after dark in the Christmas episode if he didn't dorm there?

Sorry about all the heart attacks over my cliffhangers. And this is the biggest one yet.

Part Eight

Dave Karofsky launched himself across the room, determined to pulverize the little creep that had ratted him out to the kidnappers. "You son of a-"

Jacob was pinned under the combined glares of four rugby players, and seemed doomed at that point. But Kurt stepped in front of Dave, equal measures sympathetic and disapproving. "Yes, he is. But you can't just go over there and beat him bloody!"

"Why not?" Dave demanded.

"Because the carpeting in here is a hundred and fifty years old," Kurt told him, annoyingly reasonable. "And the subspecies of silkworm it's made out of was accidentally wiped out during the Boxer Rebellion. That's why we took off our shoes."

Kurt could see that Dave thought that was a weird reason for not beating up Jacob, but he shrugged. "Well, okay. But I'm doing it later."

"Sure thing," Kurt agreed calmly. Frankly, if it wasn't for the carpeting in here he might have been pummeling Jacob before Dave had a chance.

"So you do know him," Wes noted. Kurt turned to him, briefly grateful that he was the only Warbler council member here. As much as he wanted to see everyone, having both Dave Karofsky, and Council Member David (and the attending confusion of names and emotions) was something Kurt didn't want to deal with.

"That's Jacob ben Israel," Dave spat. "If he's spying for the kidnappers, he must have been the one that let them know I'm gay." Kurt raised a surprised eyebrow. Two days ago, Dave wouldn't have said that aloud and now he hadn't even noticed that he'd said it.

"You really are?" Jacob asked, surprised. "I mean, I know I already reported it. But it's good to get confirmation."

"You've got that a little backwards," Blaine told him. "Notwithstanding, you had NO RIGHT to go after him like that. He could have been killed."

"I didn't know there were homophobic kidnappers out there at the time," Jacob insisted. "Besides, it's not that bad. Their plan for you is very humane-"

"HUMANE!" Blaine shouted. Kurt was surprised (and secretly a little turned on) to see Blaine this angry. But no more surprised than he was that Jacob might have useful information

"What are they doing?" Kurt demanded. "What do you know?"

Jacob started to realize though, that he'd said too much. "Nothing."

Blaine turned to Wes, who addressed the rugby guys: "Take him off the carpet. Mr. Karofsky, since I'm not up on physical coercion techniques-"

"Okay, okay!" Jacob yelped as his chair was raised. "There's a temporary camp somewhere down south. They're all being held there until buyers can be found."

Wes' eyes widened, but he gave a gesture to put the traitor down.

"Buyers," Kurt repeated, shocked. "They're selling them into slavery." It was good news that they hadn't all been killed, but if the kidnappers were able to get the others out of the country they might never find them. It might already be too late.

Blaine was aghast. "Why? Would you help them?"

Jacob seemed angry, now. "Maybe I'm sick of how good you have it!"

"Yeah, we've been having it great," Dave growled sarcastically. "Kurt, you must have been having the time of your life when I drove you out of McKinley."

"Happy days are here again," Kurt quipped. He hoped Dave got that his venom was directed at Jacob, not Dave.

"You have no idea how much harder it is for the rest of us!" Jacob snapped. "When you get picked on everyone's got your back because it's not PC to be mean to you. No one cares about the rest of us getting bullied."

Kurt got a chill down his back, and it made him angrier. "People don't bully you because you're straight. It's because you're a judgmental ass hole."

"So are you," Jacob replied. "You just get away with it because of how much 'harder' your life is."

Kurt didn't know what to say about that. It was true that he often played the 'homophobic' card whenever someone got in his face. He thought about Puck, and how they'd gotten friendlier only after Kurt started being less of a bitch to him. He didn't like what that said about him.

Before Kurt could go further down a shame spiral though, Blaine was there supporting him. "That's not you. Yeah, you're not perfect. But you haven't brought this on yourself."

"So what do we do with him?" Dave asked, bored with the whole proceedings.

Wes looked down at the gun in Kurt's waistband, then shared an enigmatic smile with Blaine. "Well, normally we'd call the police, but that clearly isn't an option right now. The original Dalton rules are still on the books, though."

"Really?" Blaine asked, sounding far too chipper. "And what do those say?"

"The attempted assassination of two Warblers is a capital offence," Wes told him. "Since we don't have a firing squad, I guess we'd have to leave it up to you."

"That sounds fair." And then heedless of the carpet, Blaine drew the gun out of Kurt's waistband and pointed it at Jacob ben Israel's head. He was too close to miss.

Jacob gave a garbled whimpering sound and fainted. The rugby boys lifted him and the chair he was on off of the carpet before his urine could leak through his pants onto the floor.

Blaine checked to confirm the safety was still on the gun before returning it to Kurt's waistband. "So what are you REALLY going to do with him," Blaine asked, conversationally.

Wes shrugged calmly. "Turn him over to the Government task force, I suppose. I also-"

But before Wes could state what he also wanted to do, the hidden door opened again, and a breathless Thad ran in. "They're here. The County Sherriff's office."

"Damn!" Wes snapped. "How did they find out Kurt and Blaine were here?"

"And me," Dave piped up.

Thad ignored him. "They don't seem to know," he told Wes. "They told the Headmaster the same story they're handing out in town."

"They must have assumed - correctly- that this was the most likely place for us to go after they burnt us out of the camp ground," Blaine stated.

"I was hoping that they'd think it was too obvious," Wes commented. Then he turned to Blaine with concern. "Did you just say they burned down the camp ground? Not the one we go to?"

"We have to hide," Kurt told them, before they could get bogged down by catching up. "What about the old bomb shelter? Can you convince them it's been locked for decades and no one can get in?"

Wes looked at him, puzzled. "It HAS been locked for decades, and no one CAN get in."

"That's not what I've heard," Kurt answered coyly. He pulled away from Blaine to head to the bomb shelter, but immediately the room started spinning. And he was just barely able to clutch onto Blaine in time to maintain his balance.

Everyone rallied around Kurt. "Are you okay, baby," Blaine asked.

Kurt remembered what Jacob had said about everyone supporting him and felt guilty. "I'm okay, really."

"No you're not," Blaine told him. "This is shock setting in. Kurt, you were almost killed just a couple of hours… ago…." And then it was Blaine who was looking ashen.

"Why don't you guys head over to the bomb shelter," Wes suggested, which was an indication of how concerned he was, as he usually instructed people to do things. "I can have someone bring you some refreshments."

But Blaine shook his head, restoring a little of his color. "No, I'll get it. It looks like you guys have your hands full already. Dave, make sure Kurt doesn't pass out on the way there, please."

"I'll be fine," Kurt insisted.

Blaine kissed him one more time, then followed Wes out of the hidden chamber. The rugby players followed and Kurt briefly wondered where they were taking Jacob. But he didn't have the time or energy to worry about it. "Let's go."

Dave walked beside Kurt as they went. They were quiet for the most part, until Dave asked, "So how is it?" with a head gesture referring back to Blaine.

Kurt tossed aside his initial thought that Dave was once again asking about the sex. Because that didn't seem to be it. He looked… almost envious. "It's fantastic," Kurt admitted quietly. "A lot better than being in the closet."

"Oh." The envious look on Dave's face went away. Now he looked like he might just be a little hopeful.

* * *

"Headmaster!" Wes hurried up to the worried older man as he re-entered the front doors.

"Mr. Kim. I take it you've heard about what's going on outside."

"I heard the County Sherriff's office is trying to gain access to the school," Wes replied. "What I haven't heard is what you told them."

"I told them the truth," the Headmaster answered. "That any investigating of this homophobe war needs to be done by the proper authorities. And that the gates of Dalton will remain sealed until someone from the Federal Task Force asks that they be opened."

Wes exhaled, relieved. "Thank you, Headmaster."

The Headmaster looked at him, suddenly concerned. "My boy, you'd tell me if there was some reason you didn't want them in here?"

"I've heard some things about the local police," was all that Wes said.

"Indeed? A little warbler told you?" the Headmaster wondered, curious.

Wes smiled. The Headmaster was a good man, and Wes felt more than comfortable confiding that Kurt and Blaine were here. He just needed to be discrete in case of prying ears. "The littlest, sir."

The Headmaster's eyes widened, knowing full well who the 'littlest Warbler' was. "I'm glad to know you've heard from such a trustworthy source. I have as much security as we can muster around the perimeter of the campus, but I'm afraid if someone were to sneak in there is little we can do about it."

"I have my Warblers keeping a lookout as well," Wes admitted. "We can't keep them out, but at least we'll know-"

Wes broke off when he heard his phone beep. "Excuse me, Headmaster."

Wes inhaled sharply. It was a message from Theo, who was stationed at the Juniors' Common Room.

'Plainclothes slipped past security as the west garden gate. Brown hair, pretty tall. Saw him showing W and K pictures when I was out shopping.'

Wes turned back to the Headmaster. "Sir, I think we need to call the Task Force.

"They're inside."

* * *

Blaine had to make a second attempt at entering the open door of the bomb shelter. He reared back on his first try, almost gagging on the smell of mothballs. He had to hold his breath to walk in, regretting having to breathe again once he locked the door. "God, that's vile."

"You're not wrong." Kurt was sitting on the floor next to Dave, and had decided to wrap his silk scarf (the only part of his tux he'd still been wearing when the cabin burned) around his mouth. Dave had his eyes closed, either just chilling or completely asleep.

Blaine went to sit down on the cot next to them, but Kurt shook his hand in the negative. "I wouldn't sit there. Remember how I told you I'd heard this place had been opened? Guys have been using it for less than hygienic purposes."

Blaine winced, choosing to sit next to Kurt. "The polite thing to do would have been to wash the sheets."

Kurt chuckled as he peeked in the bag Blaine was carrying. "What did you bring us?"

"Well, it's not McDonalds," Blaine teased. The fact that Dave hadn't responded to that convinced Blaine the other boy was really asleep. "Managed to get my hands on some of the good coffee Thad hides in his room. And there's chicken and fresh pasta."

Kurt looked like he'd have eaten his pasta out of a no name box at that point, but his eyes lit up at Blaine's words. "Fresh? If I weren't already sleeping with you, this would have completely won me over."

Blaine sighed playfully. "All that work singing, and all I had to do to win you was make a quick trip to the grocery store?"

Kurt laughed again, snuggling into Blaine as they dug into the food Blaine had brought. "Don't forget to leave some for Dave," Kurt reminded him.

Blaine didn't need the reminder, but smiled anyway. "I'm really glad you guys are getting along now."

Kurt continued to smile, but his face lost a little of its sparkle. And his shoulders tensed up. "I don't know if we'll be BFFs once this is all over, but it's nice to have one fewer person to look for over my shoulder."

Blaine didn't know what to say about that, so he said nothing and slid closer into Kurt. They ate in comfortable silence, occasionally punctuated with a hand against hand. Once they'd had their fill, Blaine pulled Kurt into his lap. Just for comfort, he felt too drained to do anything else. "I love you, Kurt."

Kurt was almost asleep as well, but he gave a happy sounding moan. "Love you too."

Blaine's need for rest was jolted a little by an unpleasant roll of his stomach. Not surprising given the day's events.

If he HAD eaten since lunch nearly ten hours ago, he no doubt would have vomited at some point. "Supper didn't agree with me, I guess."

"Feeling a little nauseous myself," Kurt admitted quietly. "Better not be food poisoning, after all this."

"That would not be fair," Blaine agreed. "Suppose there's any antacids somewhere in here?"

"Maybe. I know some guys have come down here to drink."

Blaine stood up, but the room started spinning and he had to lean heavily onto the wall to remain upright. "Must be more tired than I thought. My head's killing me."

Kurt didn't respond, so Blaine crossed the room looking for something to settle his stomach. "Good thing you're sick too, or I'd be wondering if you got me pregnant," Blaine teased.

That got a little chuckle out of Kurt. "Didn't I… tell you? Hummel men are… notoriously virile."

"I've noticed." Blaine felt a little bad for keeping Kurt awake, but it was grim and lonely locked away in this insulated space. It was rapidly making him feel depressed and talking to Kurt was helping that a little.

There were no antacids though. Blaine sighed and sat back down beside Kurt, hoping that he could ignore the feeling in his gut long enough to get to sleep. Chances were good, the way sleep kept creeping up on him.

Headaches, dizziness, nausea. Despite Blaine's fatigue, the terms bounced around his head like a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

It wasn't until he found he couldn't stop shaking that he realized something might be really wrong.

Blaine was on his feet again, despite the dizziness. Despite the pounding now going on in his head. He looked around the room, realizing in short order that the room wasn't sealed like a modern panic room. There were vents all around the ceiling, bringing air in from-

No, not air.

Carbon monoxide.

They were being gassed out.

Blaine tried to calm his breathing. Realizing that it would do no good that the only one aware of the danger was taking in so much more of the gas. The tremors calmed a little as well, and Blaine made his way to Kurt.

"Kurt baby, wake up," he pleaded. "It's gas. Got to- Get out."

Kurt's nose twitched a little, but he didn't open his eyes. "Looking for us…. Too dangerous…."

"It's even… more dangerous in here…."

Hard to think.

That one of- Signs?

Couldn't leave Dave. Can't carry.

"…Kurt wake now…."

Help.

Wake.

…No….

Over.

Blaine literally fell into Kurt's arms as the vertigo got too bad.

Can't… got to….

Can't.

What was left of Blaine's consciousness couldn't figure out how he was supposed to get them out.

But then confusion was one of the symptoms, too.

"Sorry… Kurt…." Wrapping his arms around Kurt's unconscious form, Blaine closed his eyes.

He didn't expect to open them again.

(to be continued)


	9. Chapter 9

I might have the specifics of carbon monoxide poisoning wrong, Wikipedia isn't that clear on the details. If I've misunderstood, I apologize.

I also apologize for not getting this posted sooner. I've been distracted watching the most recent episode of Glee over and over and over….

Part Nine

There'd been some unusual traffic on the police frequency for Westerville even before the SOS from Dalton Academy for Boys, so the Federal Task Force had sent everyone in the area. Detective Jack Snyder, one of the first non-gay members to be admitted (as the attack on his cousin's wedding had pretty much proven what side he was on) and current head of this division of the investigation, arrived at the Dalton gates not sure what to anticipate.

He definitely wasn't expecting to see a dozen or so officers in the local Sheriff's Office at the gate, everyone's gun pointed at one of the other officers like a multiplayer Mexican standoff.

"What the hell is going on here?" Oliver Fish, Jack's second-in-command wondered.

"Jack Snyder, Federal Task Force!" Jack shouted in introduction, as he flashed his federal ID. "Everybody put your guns down."

There seemed to be two separate groups in the melee. The paler, more disturbed looking ones lowered their guns immediately. But they didn't put them away until the rest followed suit.

"Who's-" Jack broke off, realizing that it was stupid to ask who was in charge, because at the moment no one was. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask all of you to come with us, on suspicion of conspiracy and accessory to kidnapping, hate crimes, and murder."

"That's preposterous," the man Jack now realized was the County Sherriff insisted.

But the kid that had had his gun pointed at the Sherriff paled further as he glared at the man. "I didn't know," the rookie pleaded. "I swear I didn't."

Jack tried to nod sympathetically, though for all he knew this was an acting performance from someone trying to get out before the plot completely fell apart. "Officer Cooper!" Jack called out. John Cooper stepped forward as Jack addressed him. "Take them all in. I want them held until we can determine who was actually aware of the conspiracy."

"Sure thing, Detective."

"Fish, Stokes, you're with me," Jack continued, smiling for the first time in days. "Let's get those kids.

One of the deputies chuckled at him, though. "You're too late."

"Shut UP," the Sherriff ordered.

Jack felt a chill run down his spine. "Let him speak," he demanded, all good humor gone again.

The officer who'd stood up to the Sherriff grabbed the Deputy's cell phone and approached Jack. "They slipped an officer in there to gas them in the bomb shelter they're hiding in," the officer told him, holding up the Deputy's phone.

Jack grabbed it, reading a text stating exactly what the officer had said. "Oh my god."

The Deputy sneered. "You're too late. They're already dead."

* * *

When Kurt opened his eyes he was stunned to see his mom with him.

Kurt had never had any illusions about there being an afterlife, so he'd been convinced that this would never happen. That he'd never see his mother again. He considered the possibility that this was some sort of hallucination. A pleasant dream to comfort him in his last moments of life.

Except Kathleen Hummel wasn't smiling down on him. She was crying. "Kurt, it's too soon. You have to go back."

Just the idea of 'back' left Kurt with a heavy fog in his head. "Back?" he asked, confused.

"Back to Blaine, sweetheart. You remember Blaine." It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

An unnecessary one, because Kurt definitely remembered Blaine. Remembered lying in his boyfriends arms. He was glad that they'd had at least a few days to be in love. To explore what made each other happy, what made Blaine moan.

"Kurt, you have to wake up," Kathleen insisted. And with that she was gone.

Kurt found himself in Blaine's arms, in a body that felt even heavier and more muddled than a moment ago. His body shivered, though he couldn't feel the cold. Kurt was reminded about singing 'Baby it's Cold Outside' with Blaine.

How odd, that it felt like his memories were unraveling. Like every thought was drawing him backwards.

He was with Blaine now, and he wasn't afraid. It seemed like there was still something he needed to do, but he couldn't remember what it was.

And if he closed his eyes, he could remember Blaine singing Teenaged Dream to him. Kurt wanted to slip away listening to that song.

"Now every February, you'll be my Valentine," Kurt murmured.

Valentine.

No.

It can't end like this.

Baby, you have to wake up, NOW.

Kurt's eyes opened. And he remembered. Blaine had said there was gas. "Wake up," he moaned. "Wake up!"

He pulled himself upright. Lifted arms that felt weighted down and hit Blaine and Dave as hard as he could. Which wasn't much, but it got the job done. Dave, who'd been legitimately sleeping, and hadn't breathed in as much gas as Blaine had, woke up immediately.

Blaine had to force his eyes open. "Kurt…" he slurred. "Whaz goin on?"

"Have-" Kurt panted, having to force himself to stay awake. He pulled his scarf tighter around his mouth and wondered what part it had had in keeping him alive. "Have to get out- Gas."

"No," Dave insisted, his eyes starting to droop shut again. "That's practically suicide."

Kurt hit him again, dragging the other two boys to their feet. "No! Staying here is definite suicide." He pulled the gun out of his waistband. "Security everywhere. Can't be more than a couple of guys out there."

Kurt lurched to the door, but his head was too foggy to go any further. Dave had to unlock and open the door himself. The three slipped out and closed the door. Seeing no one waiting there, Kurt listened for signs of someone else down here.

There was the low sound of some kind of machine. Kurt started in that direction, but Dave pulled him to a stop. "Kurt wait. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so mean to you. And I'm sorry I said I was going to kill you. I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."

Kurt looked as him, trying to clear his head. He wasn't sure it wasn't too soon. But it seemed like they might have very little time. "You're forgiven."

The sound Kurt heard was a battery charger or something. The guy guarding it had a hose taped around the exhaust which he'd fed into the ducts on one side of the bomb shelter. So this wasn't an attempt to drive them back out. It was an outright murder attempt.

Kurt's head still felt like it was splitting apart, but the guy didn't seem to be able to hear them over the noise. Kurt held his gun as securely as he could and started firing.

The first shot went wide, warning the guy of his danger. But the second shot hit the charger, and as the guy went for his gun a third shot hit him in the shoulder.

The guy dropped his gun reflexively, and Kurt continued to fire. No hits, but the guy must have realized he'd be an idiot to try to go for his gun. There was another corridor only about five feet beside him and the guy ran for it.

The boys hurried to the charger, and Kurt picked up the second gun in his left hand. Blaine tried to shut the charger off, but his hands were practically useless and he gave up. It sounded like there was something happening past the second corridor, but the dull roar in Kurt's ears made it impossible to determine what it was.

Blaine coughed beside him. "We should get outside." Kurt nodded. Fresh air was going to feel so good right now.

But before they could move, two men (not uniformed, but armed) burst from the second corridor. Kurt raised his still tired arms, pointing a gun at each of them.

Both men raised their hand immediately. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," the first one stated. "We're not here to hurt you. My name's Jack Snyder and this is Nick Stokes. We're with the Federal Task Force."

"Put your guns down," Kurt demanded.

"Okay," Jack told him. They did as asked, and Jack added. "I'm going to take out my ID now. Is that all right?"

Kurt shrugged, but Blaine nodded. "Just move slowly and slide it over here," Blaine added.

Jack slid his ID over. "Okay? You're safe now. We caught the guy that was after you, and a friend is getting him out of here."

Kurt just glanced at the ID. "This means nothing. How would I know what the official documentation looks like?"

Jack sighed, but Nick nodded. "Jack, let me." He slid his own wallet over.

"Does yours say 'Federal Task Force, super for honest'?" Dave sneered.

Nick smiled at him. "No, I want you to look at the pictures of my partner and our little girl."

Kurt didn't move, but Blaine and Dave exchanged a surprised look. Surprised and hopeful. Kurt wanted to feel the same. He knew that the task force had a lot of gays in it, and that would be good evidence that these guys were legit. But his head was burning, and he didn't feel very positive.

Blaine picked the wallet up, his face softening as he looked at the pictures. "She's beautiful."

"Her name's Rika. She's six months in that picture, but she'll be a year next month." Nick smiled sadly as he added enigmatically, "Greg and I named her after a good friend."

"Where are they?" Blaine asked.

"Rika is with my parents in Texas," Nick told him. "Greg is a CSI like I am, so they assigned him to help locate the kidnapping victims."

"Did they?" Kurt asked, shivering. Though whether it was from nerves or the continuing effects of the gas he didn't know.

"Yeah, the camp was just outside Bon Temps, Louisiana. It's going to take a while to round up everyone involved in this, but for now it's over."

It seemed too good to be true. "So that's it?" Kurt asked, bewildered. "Everybody's okay, and we can go home now?"

Jack's jaw tightened a little, and Kurt realized that he'd oversimplified. "We're still going through the people we found at the camp. I honestly can't tell you if everyone made it out of there." Oddly, as awful as that was, Jack's admission made Kurt feel a little better.

"Blaine? Dave?" Kurt asked with a quick glance at them. It occurred to Kurt that he'd been looking around enough that Jack could have disarmed him if he'd wanted. That he hadn't was comforting too. "What do you two think?"

Blaine looked up at Kurt, he'd been studying the wallet Nick had given him quite closely. "They look happy. I don't think you could fake something like that."

"If they can we might as well give up right now," Dave noted.

"That's not an answer," Kurt pointed out.

"Kurt, I want to go home," Dave admitted, eyes filled. "Can't we just pretend we trust them for now?"

Kurt looked at both Jack and Nick for a long time.

Finally, he lowered his guns. "Okay."

* * *

Not only had the federal agents been telling the truth, but when they got to the hospital to get the boys checked out, Jack had assigned himself to the door of their hospital room (it was a room for two, but the boys couldn't stand to separate just yet) to announce visitors. It hadn't seemed necessary, but Kurt found that even a knock on the door startled him. If someone actually came in unannounced he might have lunged at them.

There were only two beds in the hospital room, but Kurt and Blaine obviously had no problems sharing. Thankfully they seemed to have gotten off pretty well. They weren't suffering any immediate problems as a result of the carbon monoxide poisoning, and only Blaine was still suffering from a headache.

Kurt's windpipe was bruised, but he'd been assured that it wouldn't impact his singing voice. Which just left him with the unpleasantness of having to explain to his father just HOW his windpipe had gotten bruised.

Kurt and Blaine had been fussing over each other for a few minutes when Blaine noticed that Dave was quiet and withdrawn, looking out the window. "Sorry," Blaine told him. "We'll try to keep it PG."

"It's fine." Dave continued looking out the window. Kurt and Blaine were starting to get concerned when Dave turned to them. "Kurt, I know that you just said what you said because you thought we were all going to die. But I gotta know. Are we okay now?"

It was a serious question, and Kurt gave it the consideration it deserved. Frankly, as angry as Kurt had been at the time, the far bigger concern had been how frightened Kurt had been of Karofsky. Kurt looked over at Dave and realized that he wasn't scared of Dave at all.

That was all the answer Kurt needed. "On one condition. At no point am I ever going to have to help sing 'Jungle Fever' to Azimio," he replied with a smile.

The boys all laughed, though it was broken suddenly by a knock on the door. A few seconds (to allow them to all calm) and Jack poked his head through the door. "Sounds like you guys are getting along okay in here," he commented. "But I've got three very concerned families out here, and I was hoping you wouldn't mind seeing them."

All three jumped off of their beds, excitedly (Kurt was relieved that Jack had also gotten them clothes; he couldn't imagine meeting Blaine's parents in something that opened in the back). "Yes, please," they exclaimed together.

Jack didn't need to get anyone, as the Karofskys, the Andersons, and Kurt's family heard them and rushed in. Kurt took an involuntary step back at the stampede, and had to take a calming breath. Then threw himself into Burt, Carole, and Finn's waiting arms.

"Oh my god, kid," Burt told him, almost sobbing. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

Kurt rested his head on his father's shoulder, relaxing for the first time. "Believe me, the feeling is mutual."

* * *

Ironically enough, as much as the boys missed their parents Kurt and Blaine returned to the dorms when they were released from the hospital, as they were not quite ready to be separated yet.

The Andersons and Hummel-Hudsons took suites at the best hotel in Westerville, and Kurt and Blaine were able to wake up in each others arms free from worry about what the day would bring. "This is nice," Kurt finally said. "I wish we could stay like this."

"Your roommate and mine seem to get along pretty well," Blaine reminded him. "Maybe we could make this a permanent arrangement."

Kurt frowned, pulling away from Blaine and walking to the window. "Now that Karofsky - Dave - isn't an issue anymore, my dad wants me to come back to McKinley."

Blaine winced, though he'd somewhat expected this. "I'm not surprised. My grandfather has actually been pressuring my dad to move us all to Newport." He moved to stand behind Kurt, holding him. "They'll get over it."

"I don't think my dad will," Kurt admitted. "After Mom died, all we had was each other. This really scared him; just the thought of not having me at home-" Burt had actually cried, and it broke Kurt's heart.

Blaine nodded. "I understand. In fact, I talked to my mom and dad about it. They're willing to buy a house in Lima and let me go to McKinley if I ask."

"Really?" Kurt gaped. "I thought your parents both had full lives in Columbus."

"Well, it won't be easy," Blaine told him. "But my Dad can run his company from anywhere; the only reason it was Columbus was that was where my grandparents - his parents- lived when they were alive. And my Mom was never into the whole Vanderbilt High Society thing."

Kurt still didn't look convinced, which was somewhat expected. It was a big change for Blaine's family, and only the knowledge that Blaine would probably elope with Kurt if they couldn't be together convinced them to do it. But Blaine was sure this was going to work for all of them, and eventually Kurt would see it too.

(The war is over; Kurt and Blaine's recovery is to be continued)


	10. Chapter 10

I probably could have posted this earlier if I hadn't been spending all my time these days watching and re-watching the most recent episode of Glee. Sorry, but I'm sure you understand my new obsession at least.

Chapter Ten

Kurt couldn't breathe, the hand around his throat more than prevented that.

Blaine stood only a few feet away, unable to move. The man had a gun, and he wouldn't miss at that close range. Moving would result in a sudden, bloody death for Kurt. But not moving would only prolong Kurt's life for a few moments longer.

"Too long," the man taunted. "You're killing him here." He moved the gun a little, almost clear of Kurt's arm. So that when he fired the bullet tore superficially through the skin.

Kurt whimpered in pain, blood trickling down his arm onto the ground. "Please-" he begged.

"Shut up." And the man fired again, this time against Kurt's hip.

There was so much more blood, and Kurt just about fell. "Blaine, why won't you help me?"

"If you help him, I'll kill him," the man reminded Blaine, as if he needed reminding. "Of course, if you don't help him, I'll still kill him," he added with a perverse smile.

The ground was already soaked in Kurt's blood, Blaine could hear it squish as he shifted his weight back and forth. "Please-"

"Not as brave as Karofsky, are you?" the man asked. He moved the gun against Kurt's side. Still not a fatal shot, but much deeper into Kurt.

Kurt keened in agony as the bullet tore into him. But he didn't speak, Blaine couldn't remember when Kurt didn't have a smart remark even in the face of death. This guy- no, Blaine was the one who'd silenced him. He could see it on Kurt's face.

The silent reproach for one who'd failed him.

"You're starting to bore me," the man told Blaine. "Karofsky would have had me on my ass by now. You're a failure as a boyfriend."

The man dropped his gun. "I'm getting bored with this."

But then he moved his hand from Kurt's throat to his chin. He pulled out a knife.

And in a smooth, impossibly fast motion, cut Kurt's throat.

A life shouldn't end so fast.

* * *

Blaine screamed as he woke up. Screamed and didn't stop screaming.

He reached over instinctively to remind himself that Kurt wasn't dead. Kurt was right beside him.

Except Kurt wasn't beside him.

Blaine continued to scream, holding the sound the way only a singer could. There were people there, but he couldn't see them. He didn't know where he was.

One of the people (man or woman, he couldn't tell and he couldn't care) was talking, but he couldn't hear them. His voice was actually starting to go.

"Kurt? KURT! Where are you?" he pleaded.

"Baby!" The person nearest to him (that was a woman's voice wasn't it? And familiar) managed to get a word across. Now that he wasn't actually screaming, he could hear them a little. Even if he couldn't see them. "Baby, it's mommy. Come back to us."

Mommy? The panic receded to manageable levels and he could see them. It was his parents, worried and pale as death. "Mom? Where's Kurt? Where is he? I want to see Kurt."

His parents looked at each other, distressed, but it was his father who spoke. "Son, Kurt's at home with his family. Just like you are. Remember?"

Home? He looked around, realizing why he didn't recognize where he was. This was their new home in Lima; he'd only slept here twice now.

It was just a dream. A nightmare.

Kurt wasn't- "Kurt's not dead."

Blaine's mother started crying with anxiety. She wrapped her arms around him. It didn't help at all. "Baby, no. He's okay. You're all home safe."

"Safe," Blaine repeated. The word had never felt alien on his lips before. He pulled away from his mother, trying to restore his internal calm. "I'm sorry. I woke up, and I guess I got used to having Kurt next to me. When I couldn't find him-"

Blaine's parents gave each other another look. This one was clearly trying to be comfortable with the idea that another boy was defiling their son. Blaine was too worked up to find it funny.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," Blaine told them. "Go back to bed, I'll be fine."

They didn't look convinced. But Blaine's dad nodded reluctantly. "Well, if you need something, let us know. Don't worry about waking us."

"Okay, dad."

His parents had gone from being not very demonstrative to not getting enough of hugging and kissing him. It was even more pronounced tonight. Almost another fifteen minutes passed before Blaine was alone again.

Alone, and as tired as he was he was unable to go back to sleep.

He wanted Kurt. Their respective therapists insisted they needed to get used to being apart. That it wasn't healthy to depend on someone else to get a good night sleep. Kurt had sleeping pills but Blaine didn't have any problems falling asleep, just staying there.

Blaine picked up his phone and sent a 'U asleep?' text to his boyfriend.

He waited for what seemed to be an eternity for a response. He probably wouldn't get one until morning. Kurt was probably fast asleep, it was just Blaine who was a nervous wreck.

The man in his dream was right. He was pathetic.

Kurt deserved someone a lot braver than Blaine was. Even Dave would be a better choice.

Blaine had no business-

Blaine's phone beeped with an incoming text from Kurt. The phone display indicated it was a quarter after one, just as it had when he'd sent the text.

'No.' Kurt's text read. 'Skype?'

Hope flooded back into Blaine's chest. Giving himself a minute to compose himself, he typed back 'Sure' and started setting his computer up.

* * *

These upcoming chapters are more vignettes than anything else, so length will vary. Next chapter, Dave has an interesting encounter with Azimio.


	11. Chapter 11

William McKinley High School hadn't changed at all since Kurt was last here. It was kind of soothing, actually.

Okay, there was one key difference. There was a strong anti-bullying policy at the school, and for now everyone seemed to be leaving him and Blaine alone. Yes, there were the odd turned up noses at their PDAs. But Kurt and Blaine were still struggling with being out of protection range of each other, and their overly heated make out sessions when they were actually able to be together probably warranted some irritation.

Right now, Kurt was making a serious effort to not climb up onto Blaine while they kissed in front of Blaine's new locker. They heard someone clear their throat, but made no move to stop making out until the same voice called out, "Kurt." It was Dave.

Now Kurt and Dave did come up for air. Although the three boys were finding it kind of awkward maintaining their tentative friendship now that things were more or less back to the way they had been, this was the first time they'd seen him since the charges against him had been formally dismissed. "Hi, Dave," Kurt smiled. "Congratulations."

"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "Great news."

"Thanks." Dave seemed more puzzled that pleased, though. "Did you guys know that guy I shot was getting better right before he died?"

Kurt nodded. "We heard. The guy that attacked us at the campground is dead too."

"Has anyone else seen the guys they're supposed to have watching us?" Blaine worried. The Federal Task Force hadn't yet tracked down everyone involved in the conspiracy, now being termed the Homophobe War. With the news that the conspirators were killing off loose ends, it seemed like they still weren't out of danger. "As much as I don't want to be baby sat, it would be nice to feel like we haven't been left completely to our own devices."

"I catch a glimpse of them now and again," Kurt assured him. "They don't want to be too intrusive." Kurt was honestly grateful for that, so he didn't point out the reason for the hands -off approach was that they were basically bait for the conspirators.

"They could be a little more 'intrusive' today," Dave complained. "This is my first day back, and I feel like everyone is staring at me."

"They're just jealous," Kurt told him; the first time he'd included Dave in his prideful diffidence, rather than directing it at him.

"Sure they are," Dave chuckled, unconvinced. He looked over his shoulder. "I gotta jet. And it looks like you two have your own stuff to take care of."

As Dave walked away, Kurt could see that yes, Mercedes was headed straight towards them. This was Kurt and Blaine's first day back too, and they were expecting a lot of fuss being made.

Mercedes gave Kurt a big hug. "You know, as glad as we all were that you came home safe, seeing you back here where you belong is even better." Not to leave Blaine out, she hugged him to. "You make my boy happy or I'm going to hurt you."

Blaine laughed, although Kurt could tell there was something off there. Kurt was determined to ask his boyfriend what was wrong when they were alone.

"So, Glee club is still meeting at the same time," Mercedes told them. "Which is today, after classes, Blaine. I expect to see both of you there."

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other, uncomfortable. "We shouldn't-" Kurt began.

"Mercedes, we kind of left the Warblers in a bind," Blaine told her. "I really wouldn't feel right joining New Directions. At least, not this year."

"Oh." Mercedes didn't look happy with that development. "Well, what about after Regionals? That way you won't have to go up against the Warblers."

"Sure," Kurt agreed. "Assuming you win, which you have a good chance of doing."

"Actually, Kurt maybe you should join now." Kurt turned to Blaine, surprised by his boyfriend's suggestion. Kurt had gotten used to working with Blaine and he couldn't quite believe Blaine was suggesting he do this by himself.

"It wouldn't-"

"Kurt, this is your team," Blaine insisted. "The rest of the Warblers aren't going to say anything about you going back to New Directions. Don't worry about it." He looked so certain and happy, unless you could see what was going on behind those eyes of his. There was something wrong there, and Kurt couldn't figure out what it was.

"I don't know." Kurt would honestly have loved being part of New Directions again. But the idea of not sharing it with Blaine made his stomach clench.

"Just get through Regionals, and I'll be right there. Win or lose," Blaine promised.

* * *

Dave had been avoiding Azimio's calls and texts ever since he got they'd been rescued. His former best friend clearly wanted to talk about everything that had come out (especially Dave). But Azimio wasn't letting anything slip in those messages except for need 2 talk, and that just wasn't enough for Dave to feel comfortable bringing it up.

Now that Dave was back in school though, it was going to be damn near impossible to avoid Azimio forever. It was really annoying. Even if Azimio was noticeably pissed off, at least Dave would know what to expect.

And there he was again. With his damn annoying poker face. Dave pretended not to see him and hurried outside. Not really sure where he was going, except he was determined to be somewhere he didn't have to think too much.

What did it say that this was the first time he had to leave school to do that?

"S'up, Queerofsky?" Just perfect, one of those assholes from the hockey team.

Dave had completely forgot that by ducking out the door he had, he'd be putting himself right in front of the dumpsters he himself used to toss guys not so long ago. He didn't think that he had anything to worry about as far as that went (one of the advantages of being a lot less twinky than Kurt). But he wasn't looking forward to this.

"You think you're smart?" Dave sneered. "I don't really like smart."

"What about smart-ass Hummel? I heard that actually gets you off."

"You know what gets me off?" Dave asked. "Putting my fist in someone's face. And guess what? You're just my type."

"You don't scare me, DAVE," the hockey jock snarled. "We both know when it comes down to mano a mano that you're one mano short. Of course, I don't trust you not to grab my ass so I brought along some insurance."

Dave looked around to see much of the hockey team closing in on him. He huffed angrily at the odds.

Damnit, he might see the inside of that dumpster, after all.

* * *

Kurt found himself back in that familiar old choir room, facing thunderous applause when Mr. Schue announced, "First of all, let's all welcome back Kurt."

Everyone was thrilled that he'd be performing with them again, though of course Rachel could be counted on to ask, "I thought that with your boyfriend going to school here that he'd be joining us as well. Isn't he?"

Kurt explained Blaine's reasoning, despite the fact that he himself was unsure of it. Everyone accepted the logic therein though, and Rachel immediately turned to Mr. Schue to announce, "While having Kurt back is definitely going to help us in competition, without Blaine with him I think it's too early to make any assumptions. Therefore, I humbly suggest that our best option is to write our own original songs to perform at Regionals."

There wasn't a lot of support for Rachel at this. Kurt was definitely tempted but, "When you say 'our' original songs, who do you propose-"

Before Kurt could get his thought out though, Blaine burst into the choir room. Initial pleasure at seeing him dissipated when Kurt realized how alarmed Blaine was. "Kurt! You've gotta come quick."

Kurt was already standing and putting his messenger bag on his shoulder. And expecting the worst. "What's wrong? Are they here? Where the hell are the cops watching us?"

"I don't know," Blaine told him. "All I heard was Karofsky, Azimio, and bashing."

"That didn't last long," Artie sighed. They all knew about Dave coming out, but the general consensus at school was that he wouldn't be able to stick with being a good person.

Kurt didn't know what to say to that, so he just ran out of the choir room with Blaine. A couple of the others followed, but Kurt didn't slow down long enough to find out who. They didn't know where they were going, but there was a steady trickle of hockey players bolting into the school from the parking lot. And though Blaine balked at going where they were running from, he headed there anyway.

The answer to Kurt's question about police support came when they got outside. As they approached the mob of kids near the dumpsters outside, Kurt saw that there was indeed a plainclothes officer cuffing what looked like what was left of the hockey team's captain. Dave was there but Azimio was standing between them, his knuckles bruised and his eyes watering.

Kurt and Blaine hurried over to Dave, but Azimio beat them to the question of "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Dave seemed unhurt, just flabbergasted. "You know I could have handled him."

"I know. I just-" Azimio paused, momentarily overcome. "You could have DIED, man! You're my best friend. I don't care that you're a fag. And I'm not going to let some asshole throw you in a dumpster."

"Well, it would have been nice if you'd mentioned it before now. Like in one of the billion pushy texts you sent me."

"We've been friends for ten years," Azimio countered, almost crying. "I shouldn't have to tell you I don't hate you."

"Yeah." Dave bowed his head, embarrassed. "I still liked hearing it." And suddenly they were hugging.

Kurt leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder and sighed. It was actually kind of nice, but he couldn't let things go without commenting. "This would be a lot more heartwarming if Azimio wasn't still calling him a fag."

Blaine chuckled, playfully shoving Kurt off of his shoulder. "Don't ruin this Hallmark moment with your cheek."

The cop yanked the hockey player to his feet and hauled him away. As the crowd broke up (Azimio and Dave walked off together, shoulder to shoulder), Kurt decided to pull Blaine aside before he went back to Glee. "Can I talk to you about Glee club. Because it feels like you're pulling away from me."

Blaine's cheeks flushed. "I'm not, honestly."

"Then what is it?" Kurt asked. "Because something's bothering you, and I'm wondering if that's the reason you're so happy to have me doing something away from you."

Blaine was honestly shocked by Kurt's hypothesis. "That's so totally not the case. Don't you remember what our therapists said about not being so co-dependant with each other?"

Kurt had to force himself not to grumble. "I do."

Blaine smiled sadly at him. "So let's ignore the fact that I want to throw a temper tantrum every moment you're out of my sight. And pretend that I actually mean it when I say I think you need this."

Kurt looked up at him surprised. So that was what had been bothering Blaine earlier. Not that he wanted Kurt to go. But Kurt had needed to go, and Blaine had needed to let him go. If only for a little while. "I suppose I'll have to be as brave as my boyfriend then, won't I?" He gave Blaine a big hug.

Blaine's face froze even as his body stiffened uncomfortably. "I think we've established I'm not brave."

"No we haven't. You're being ridiculous."

"I-"

Kurt looked at Blaine, his eyes blazing with love and certainty. "Yes you are. Don't ruin this Hallmark moment with your cheek."

Blaine didn't.


	12. Chapter 12

It's funny. I never officially closed this fic, just in case there was something else I wanted to put in here. And for the longest time I didn't, but now I've got this and two other chapters that I need to get out. I won't promise that there will be a Book Two coming out, as every time I've ever made a promise that there will be a sequel it's ended up falling apart. But it's still something I think about from time to time.

Which brings us to Blaine. You can imagine my reaction when, after making a concerted effort to write new chapters for this story, I find out JUST DAYS BEFORE I WAS SET TO POST THIS that Klaine would break up because Blaine cheated. It's like, 'thanks so much RIB'. I have to admit that I'm currently being tempted by all sorts of non-Klaine ships for Kurt, and may end up writing some myself. But MY Blaine has never cheated on Kurt in any of his incarnations, so I hope that everyone will continue to enjoy this story in it's universe entirely separate from canon.

For those of you that were hoping this would be a new chapter of Falcon Crest: Valley Boys, I apologize. I really liked the plot at first, but now that we're a few chapters in, I'm really going to have to tear the whole thing apart and set a new heading. Hopefully, it'll be back on its feet by the time I'm finished here.

* * *

Chapter 12 – September 2011

Rachel's late entrance into the Choir Room startled half of the Glee Club, most of whom had pegged her not being there on some stupid tantrum or another. Mr Schue looked up at her, surprised and also pleased. "Rachel," he exclaimed. "Good to see you."

Rachel however, still looked like she was in the middle of something that was annoying her. "I apologize for being late," she declared. "But I have just found out some very distressing news that will no doubt infuriate the entire Glee Club, and three of its members in particular."

Kurt looked around at his equally baffled teammates. Things had been going pretty well lately, which was usually a sign that everything was about to go straight to hell. But he couldn't guess why Rachel would single out three of their number, and from the looks of things, neither could anyone else.

"Rachel, what are you talking about?" Tina asked.

"I've just found out that one of the co-conspirators in the recent homophobe war is coming back here to McKinley," Rachel replied.

Kurt looked from Blaine to Dave, who had eventually joined Glee Club after coming out. Or rather being forced out by one Jacob Ben Israel, who Kurt knew was the only person at McKinley who had aided the conspirators in any way. Dave looked as though he'd figured it out, and apparently Blaine had too. "Is this about that kid with the Afro?" Blaine guessed.

"Jacob Ben Israel," Rachel confirmed. "Who is an affront not only to Judaism, but also to people named Jacob."

"It's a dark day when I actually agree with Rachel Berry," Santana growled. She and Brittany had fortunately been spared from the actual assault on the LGBT community, but she'd lost none of her indignation because of it. If anything, she seemed to take it as a personal affront that they didn't think enough of her relationship with Brittany to do anything about it.

"My Nana says dark days are when God turns down the sun, because he's hung over," Brittany noted.

"Doesn't matter," Dave grumbled. No doubt remembering the last time he'd been stopped from hurting Ben Israel. "Just means I get to kill him every day."

"Me too," Puck stated. "We can draw up a schedule."

"Now hold on," Mr Schue told them all. "I've spoken to Coach Sylvester about this."

Kurt was shocked by that. He and Mr Schue had clashed frequently over the last few years, but Kurt was always of the opinion that Schuester was on his side. "You knew?" he asked coldly. "And you didn't say anything about it."

"That's not cool," Sam insisted. He was just as shocked and angry as Kurt was, and it seemed the rest of the team wasn't far behind.

Mr Schue's eyes widened as he took in the furious faces of his club. "I was going to wait until the end of practice today before I said anything," he promised. "I seriously wasn't keeping this from you." It seemed that he had a good enough excuse, at least for a delay, but Kurt noticed their teacher taking a nervous step backwards.

Kurt had noted something else, but Quinn got to the question first. "What does Coach Sylvester have to do with this?"

"Coach Sylvester has been the one pushing to get Jacob reinstated at this school as opposed to somewhere else." The class started to explode again, but Mr Schue continued on at a purposefully higher volume. "Under the idea that it's better to keep him under close watch in case something like this happens again. And I have to agree."

Well it was certainly understandable, even without Sue Sylvester logic. Several arrests had been made in the last few months, but it was far from clear if the government task force had gotten them all. It only made sense that they continue to be careful. That fact didn't make things any better for them, though. "So what?" Dave asked. "I don't get to beat him up again? How is that fair?"

"It's not meant to be fair," Mr Schue told him, though not without sympathy. "This whole thing hasn't been fair. But keeping a close eye on Jacob is smart, which is what we need right now."

The objections simmered down to a low grumbling. "You're probably right, Mr Schue," Mercedes told him. "But if that guy makes one sideways crack at Kurt, he won't be available to be beaten up by Puck and Dave."

She probably meant that she was going to take care of it. But from the way Blaine, Finn, Santana, Sam, and (surprisingly) Quinn growled "You've got that right," it was by no means assured.

* * *

As expected, it was Kurt who was the first Glee Club member to encounter Jacob. Not only did he seem to have radar on him that was practically a super power, but he knew from experience what constituted a suspicious groupings of jocks. Kurt strode over to the hockey players, carrying an immobilized Ben Israel, and sighed heavily. "I hope you aren't going to kill him."

One of the jocks turned to Kurt, puzzled. "Why? I thought you'd be helping us."

"So did I, honestly," Kurt admitted. "But I'm tired of all this hate."

The look on Jacob's face was almost funny. Scared, angry, cold. And now that coldness (another thing Kurt knew from experience) was burying something else. Indignation. "Look. I don't need your help."

"Sure looks like it from here," Kurt noted.

"Well, I don't WANT your help."

The hockey team's Captain (who's name Kurt didn't honestly remember, even after facing him in a school election) chuckled at that. "You heard the 'fro," he announced. "Into the dumpster."

Kurt could have made more of a fuss, possibly to the point of endangering himself. But there really wasn't any point to that. So he walked ahead of the jocks and waited at the dumpster while they dumped Ben Israel into it, and he finally extricated himself from it.

Ben Israel didn't seem all that glad to see him, which wasn't surprising. "What are you still doing here? Gloating?"

"No," Kurt told him. "I'm making what I'm sure will be a pointless attempt at opening a dialogue."

"Well, you've made your attempt, so go away."

"You seriously don't get it, do you?" Kurt asked, knowing full well that he didn't. But Kurt did. After the confrontation with Mr Schue, Kurt had spoken to Coach Sylvester. The answers he'd gotten had been very enlightening.

"What? That you're a better person than I am?"

"Well, I am," Kurt acknowledged. "But that's not the point. Coach Sylvester lobbied so you could come back to McKinley. She didn't do that because she thought you had promise. She did it because you're our enemy and she wanted to keep you closer, like the saying goes."

Jacob still had that frozen look in his eyes, but it seemed like Kurt had made his point.

Kurt headed on his way, pausing only briefly to note, "You might want to think about what kind of person that makes you. Because I really am tired of all this hate. And hating you is frankly exhausting."

* * *

"What's wrong?" Blaine looked over his boyfriend with a concerned gaze. Kurt had been quiet all day; tired, though Blaine suspected there was more to it than that. Blaine had hurried Kurt away at the end of classes to the auditorium for a duet and some lazy kisses, which Kurt had appreciated but did nothing to take away that weary look on his face.

"You know what we need to do?" Kurt asked. "Just run off somewhere for a few days. Somewhere where no one knows us. Where there isn't some homophobe war."

"Somewhere only we know?" Blaine suggested with a gentle smile.

Kurt sighed. "It sounds so unlikely when you put it like that."

"Honestly, I think I'd actually have to kill your dad to get you out of his house for that long," Blaine pointed out.

"That kind of siege mentality is why it'd be nice," Kurt admitted. "Jacob Ben Israel has been back in school for only a day, and I'm already tired of having to deal with him. I just want it all to stop for a little while. Is that so awful?"

"That's not awful at all," Blaine assured him. "In fact, I think I've got an idea for that. But it's going to have to wait a few more weeks." He didn't want to wait, at all. But he knew that what he was planning just wasn't physically possible right now.

Kurt sagged at that, but tried to put on a brave smile. "If I have to wait a few more weeks, this had better be damned good."

Blaine laughed, and gave Kurt a few more kisses. "It'll be worth it. Promise."

"Well then," Kurt stated as he stood up. "I'd better get home and start wearing down my dad."

"Call me later?" Blaine asked.

"No, I'm going to not call you for the first time in almost a year," Kurt teased. "Of course I'm going to call you."

They left the auditorium, Blaine headed straight for the parking lot while Kurt headed for the bathroom to, as he put it, fix his face. Which actually meant untousseling his hair. Blaine wasn't sure if it was Kurt who didn't care for how wild it was after they'd been kissing or if it was for Mr Hummel's benefit.

All speculation ceased when Blaine heard Kurt cry out.

Very muffled, but it was definitely Kurt.

And he needed help.

Blaine started running towards the bathroom. He knew there should be some kind of police presence in the area, but didn't know if anyone besides himself had heard Kurt's call. So Blaine shouted, "I need help!" as he ran.

Help came, but in the form of the football coach Beiste. She quickly matched Blaine's pace. "What's going on?" she asked.

"It's Kurt," Blaine told her as he hurried through the bathroom door. "I heard him calling for- OH MY GOD!"

There was a rope dangling from an exposed pipe near the ceiling down into one of the stalls. It was no doubt the thing that had drawn Kurt's attention.

All Blaine could see though was Jacob Ben Israel's body hanging from that rope. He looked very dead.

Kurt was underneath the body, trying with some small success to hold it up so the noose around Jacob's neck was no longer supporting his whole weight. But that meant that Kurt couldn't reach up to actually remove the noose, leaving both of them wobbling pathetically at the end of the rope.

"Help me," Kurt begged.

Blaine couldn't move for a second. He didn't move towards Kurt until Beiste had raced in, and yanked the rope from Jacob's neck. The body pitched into Beiste's arms, and Kurt tumbled off-kilter. Almost falling until Blaine supported him.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Blaine asked, as he gently guided Kurt to kneel on the floor.

Kurt nodded, though his entire body was shaking. "He's cold. His body is cold."

Beiste, who was checking Jacob for a pulse, nodded grimly. She started CPR anyways. "Blaine, I need you to call 911 for me. Can you do that?"

Blaine nodded, feeling stupid for not thinking of that, and dialled the phone. The woman on the phone was really nice, and said that he should stay on the line until the police got there. He told her what happened as Kurt curled up in Blaine's lap.

"I-" he wasn't sure he should be asking, but he decided to chance it. "Kurt said Jacob's body is cold. Why? What does that mean?"

Blaine knew he should know the answer to that, but his mind seemed to be completely blank.

Damn it, it was only a couple of months ago he was outsmarting kidnappers and murderers. He shouldn't be so rattled by this.

The woman on the phone was unnervingly silent for a moment. "The body is cold?"

"Yes," Blaine declared. "What does that mean?"

"Sir, you don't need to worry about that right now," the woman temporized.

Blaine felt his own body cool with fear at the fact that the operator wouldn't tell him the truth. "Please," he pleaded. "Can't you just-"

"It means he's been dead long enough to lose all his body heat," Kurt interrupted, his voice flat and defeated.

Blaine remembered that now. Man, how could he have forgotten that. But then that would mean that there was no hope, that- "Then-" Blaine couldn't say it. Couldn't even think it.

It was several long minutes before the paramedics came, but when they did it was over all too fast. "Call him, dead at the scene."

"Damn it," Beiste muttered.

The police finally showed up, and Blaine wondered what had ever happened to the surveillance he, Kurt, and Dave were supposed to be under. Kurt finally seemed to come back to himself, and pulled himself stiffly to his feet. "I've- This is-" Kurt shook his head, looking embarrassed on top of being in shock.

Kurt unclenched his right hand (Blaine hadn't even noticed it had been clenched in the first place). There was a small, now crunched up note, in his palm. He walked over to one of the officers and handed it to her.

Blaine leaned over Kurt's shoulder, and almost lost his own bearings when he saw what the note said.

Because it was a suicide note.

Jacob Ben Israel's suicide note.

'Sorry. I get it now.'

* * *

Burt Hummel came charging to the school the second he'd gotten Blaine's text 'Can u come to the school? Kurt needs his dad'. He didn't know anything beyond that, but he knew full well that he was going to be there. If, worst come to worst, someone was coming after his son again? They were going to have to go through him first.

Kurt looked rattled when Burt arrived, but Burt could see that he was already trying to pull himself together. "Dad," he called out, weakly. "I told Blaine he didn't need to text you. We're all right."

"Yeah, you look 'all right'," Burt countered sardonically. "What happened?"

"Someone murdered Jacob Ben Israel," Kurt announced.

Burt was shocked, but it appeared that Blaine was as well. "Kurt, he killed himself," Blaine reminded. "The police confirmed that."

Kurt shook his head. "I saw him only a couple of hours ago," he insisted. "I know what suicidal looks like; even what I told him wasn't enough to do this to him."

Burt put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, worrying as a theory came to mind. "Kurt, what did you say to him."

Kurt pulled back, distressed. "I didn't bully him."

"No one is saying you did," Burt assured him. Although it looked like Kurt was starting to believe that he had. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him he was here so we could keep an eye on him. I told him I was tired of all the hate. I told him I was tired of him. Hating him." Kurt looked up at his father, almost panicked. "That wouldn't make someone kill themselves, would it?"

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt. "No," Blaine declared. "He'd have had to have been a lot more tortured than that for him to do something like this."

Blaine was probably right. But if that was true, and Kurt was right that he hadn't seen any signs earlier in the day... "I think maybe we need to dig out that card we got for the government task force."

Blaine looked up at Burt now. "Do you really think someone might have really murdered him?"

Burt shrugged. "No idea. But it wouldn't be the first time the people behind all this tried to bump off someone they worked with." Yeah, that had happened all too frequently during the homophobe war. And the war wasn't over yet.

"It's-" Kurt was looking calmer, but not any happier. "I'm tired, dad. All this hate, all these people getting killed. It's just too much."

Burt wrapped his arms around his son. "I know. Whole thing just seems pointless." There was something he should be saying right now. Some way to give Kurt some kind of hope for the future.

Burt just couldn't figure out what it was.

(to be continued)


End file.
